Child, you have branches in your hair
Been moaning, quiet
His small voice
Been living a steady low
Hand or knife

Child, remove the dirt from your cheeks
Turning clinging vines into brick walls
I hear mumbling
But I'm deaf and dumb
So I bite my tongue
And swallow its sickness
Though you're definitely the best
And I wouldn't mind

Come hold my hand
It's enough, it's enough
Your reflection is me
Stick around, stick around

(Come, come, come, and it's all closer)


Lyrics submitted by royksopp

Mecklenburg song meanings
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