Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Lamb (UK)
Where are the words
To speak this thing in me
To tell the ones
Who wanna hear
For there are songs
That can set us free
While hearts lie lost
For years and years
I'm gonna find a way to say it
Writer of songs
I am and so it seems
Words are the brush
With which I paint
But there's a place in us
That lifts to dream
Then colours too deep to
Believe change
I’m gonna find a way to say it
Sing it from the tallest tree
I'm waiting for
Another language
To speak the story of my soul
For words can be
A disadvantage
And break the
Hugeness of it all
I'm gonna find a way to say it
Sing it from the tallest tree
I'm gonna find a way to say it
Sing it from the tallest tree