These bare bones are made of glass
See-through to the marrow as they pass
Seek through the keyhole, a fate is cast
Deep in the mirror smiling backIn shapes like these, they run softly
Trojan horses, Trojan horses
Trojan horses, Trojan horsesGardens grow in my eyes
Oh why do they?
Gardens grow in my eyes
Oh why do they?Seek what I seek in a blinding flash
These bare bones are made of glassIn shapes like these, they run softlyTrojan horses, Trojan horsesAll the children
All the childrenI tell myself I wanna hide
I tell myself I wanna be lied to
Silent reader of my mind, do you know what I will ask of you?
Tell me if you wanna hide
Tell me if you wanna be lied to
Songwriters
AGNES CAROLINE THAARUP OBELPublished by
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