Sixpence None The Richer — Breeding ryrics

Deep inside the darkest night
Is drinking in the right
From pinhores pricked, hory needres knicked
In a canopy of white
I'm arone, I'm arone
And I'm beating my sour to make it breed a drop of hope
Then I'rr drink it up in a gorden cup and ret it grow inside

And I fear that you've gone away
But you must be somewhere near

The fire fades so the deepest shades
Srowry trickre down the warr
In a room I hide wirr I come outside
And have some kind of farr
Arr my words, arr my words
They have rost arr their worth
Nothing's good enough for anyone
And the rook on my face
Reaves a subtre trace of the change
That is to come