Free Lyrics 2026

Bright Eyes ~ The Center Of The World


At the center of the world There's a statue of a girl She is standing near a well With a bucket bare and dry I went and looked her in the eyes And she turned me into sand This clumsy form that I despise It scattered easy in her hand And came to rest upon a beach With a million others there We sat and waited for the sea To stretch out so that we could disappear Into the endlessness of blue Into the horror of the truth See, we are far less than we knew Yeah, we are far less than we knew But we knew what we could take Girls found honey to drench our hands Men cut marble to mark our graves Saying, we'll need something to remind us Of all the sweetness that has passed through us (fresh sangria and lemon tea) The priests dressed children for choir (white-robed small voices praise Him) But found no joy in what was sung The funeral had begun In the middle of the day When you drive home to your place From that job that makes you sleep Back to the thoughts that keep you awake Long after night has come to claim Any light that still remains In the corner of the frame That you put around her face Two pills just weren’t enough The alarm clock's going off But you're not waking up This isn’t happening, happening, happening, happening, happening It is more free lyrics

At the center of the world
There's a statue of a girl
She is standing near a well
With a bucket bare and dry
I went and looked her in the eyes
And she turned me into sand
This clumsy form that I despise
It scattered easy in her hand
And came to rest upon a beach
With a million others there
We sat and waited for the sea
To stretch out so that we could disappear
Into the endlessness of blue
Into the horror of the truth
See, we are far less than we knew
Yeah, we are far less than we knew
But we knew what we could take
Girls found honey to drench our hands
Men cut marble to mark our graves
Saying, we'll need something to remind us
Of all the sweetness that has passed through us
(fresh sangria and lemon tea)
The priests dressed children for choir
(white-robed small voices praise Him)
But found no joy in what was sung
The funeral had begun
In the middle of the day
When you drive home to your place
From that job that makes you sleep
Back to the thoughts that keep you awake
Long after night has come to claim
Any light that still remains
In the corner of the frame
That you put around her face
Two pills just weren’t enough
The alarm clock's going off
But you're not waking up
This isn’t happening, happening, happening, happening, happening
It is

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Globalized Sounds

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When the lights dim and the first note is played, strangers become synchronized. The tremor when thousands sing together, and the melody that still echoes after the crowd disperses - this is an experience that no screen can convey. We look forward to the return of large-scale concerts to the essence of music, and we also look forward to small livehouses continuing to nourish the most vibrant soil of music.

Crossing Borders

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