Tragically Hip, The
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Got a window-washer's head
for an unmakeable bed
for loneliness
the past is no place to
rest your weary arms 'cept at sevens at yer sides
your face a campaign debt, reflected sky
you die to your fans one window at at a time - that's right!

gotta a window-washer's eye
for an untuckable sky
for lonely design
the past is no place to
try, but I'll get my mind's armies moving at full-stride
singing in one voice, preoccupied
and with nothing to say, I'll sing it bright - that's right!

I am here
it's only me
I ain't freed nobody yet
it's just me
I'll just be a sec
I'm a cleaner, I'm no threat, no threat, no threat
I'm a reader, I'm no threat.

who sings lonely?
everyone sings lonely
it doesn't sound so bad
who is free?
everybody's freed from the tired of being sad
so sad

how will I know?
how will I know if I'm helping?
moreso, how will she know if I'm helping?
if I'm not in the saddle, I'm nothing - that's right!

I am here
it's only me
I ain't freed nobody yet
it's just me
clearing spider-webs
I'm a listener, I'm no threat
I am here
failed and failing breath
I'm a listener, I'm no threat, no threat, no threat
I'm a watcher
I'm no threat
no threat
no threat


Mirror lyrics:

no threat
no threat
I'm no threat
I'm a watcher
I'm a listener, I'm no threat, no threat, no threat
failed and failing breath
I am here
I'm a listener, I'm no threat
clearing spider-webs
it's just me
I ain't freed nobody yet
it's only me
I am here

if I'm not in the saddle, I'm nothing - that's right!
moreso, how will she know if I'm helping?
how will I know if I'm helping?
how will I know?

so sad
everybody's freed from the tired of being sad
who is free?
it doesn't sound so bad
everyone sings lonely
who sings lonely?

I'm a reader, I'm no threat.
I'm a cleaner, I'm no threat, no threat, no threat
I'll just be a sec
it's just me
I ain't freed nobody yet
it's only me
I am here

and with nothing to say, I'll sing it bright - that's right!
singing in one voice, preoccupied
try, but I'll get my mind's armies moving at full-stride
the past is no place to
for lonely design
for an untuckable sky
gotta a window-washer's eye

you die to your fans one window at at a time - that's right!
your face a campaign debt, reflected sky
rest your weary arms 'cept at sevens at yer sides
the past is no place to
for loneliness
for an unmakeable bed
Got a window-washer's head


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