| Tore up like your baby blue jeans
|
| I was stepping through a fog
|
| Under pressure, but I’m feeling weightless
|
| Can’t let heaven’s pin-stripe shooting
|
| Leave you carrying a cross
|
| Across the desert when you’re feeling faithless
|
| After all, this haze is only temporary
|
| Laughter falls on deaf ears in the auditorium
|
| Stories stacked up so tall
|
| And you don’t talk me down
|
| You’re talking me through
|
| Bright lights, our platform fire
|
| I’m a man on a wire
|
| You’re here for the view
|
| Scattered in the mist, unmoving
|
| It’s getting hard for you to watch
|
| Me under pressure when I’m feeling weightless
|
| Up where tensions aren’t computing
|
| And where I’ve never fallen off
|
| I guess I’d like to think your worry’s wasted
|
| Worry’s wasted on me
|
| After all, this haze may not be temporary
|
| I heard you call
|
| From the back row of the auditorium
|
| Stories stacked up so tall
|
| And you don’t talk me down
|
| You’re talking me through
|
| Bright lights, our platform fire
|
| I’m a man on a wire
|
| You’re here for the view
|
| I’m a man on a wire
|
| You’re here for the view
|
| So tell me what you think
|
| When you see me there
|
| And tell me what you see
|
| When the smoke is clear
|
| Tore up like your baby blue jeans
|
| I was stepping through a fog
|
| Stories stacked up so tall
|
| And you don’t talk me down
|
| You’re talking me through
|
| Yeah, just like you always do
|
| Bright lights, our platform fire
|
| I’m a man on a wire
|
| You’re here for the view
|
| I’m a man on a wire
|
| You’re here for the view
|
| Bright lights, our platform fire
|
| I’m a man on a wire
|
| You’re talking me through |