The Russian Futurists - Paul Simon

There's this one word, it's called comfort, It's the strangest, most dangerous place I could hide It's a wonder, this cold comfort Hasn't hollowed and swallowed you and I from inside You're my first point, on the worst nights My gut knots up, my heart bursts like A pinata pops, this has gotta stop, watch the water drop from clouds, it sure rains a lot And I've felt how a heart melts down I'm so burnt out; I'm a shell now It's the worst of lows, it's the first to go, it's the last to come back when the sun melts the snow What I'm giving, you is taking, Lots of lying and some faking Have I gone too far? Am I too far gone? I've been up all night and fight to keep out the dawn And we've felt how our hearts melt down We're so burnt out; we're a shell now It's the worst of lows, it's the first to go, it's the last to come back when the sun melts the snow