paroles de chanson Colourfield - The Colourfield

An open door is calling you
To a field of free
Through a haze of blue
To a state of mind
From the deepest sleep
From the crucifier to a sweet release
From a black despair to a love affair
In the colourfield, the colourfield.

War is red, peace is blue
But to hope for it
Is not enough
One misguided missiles
Clouds for the bible
The hand's reaching down controlling your life
You get no choice at all
When you're asked to decide
You'll dig your own grave
When your spirit has died
All the doors are locked
When opportunity's knocked

In the colourfield, the colourfield.

All you need is a peace of mind
But even that is hard to find
It could be under, be upper
Be upbeat or downbeat
Frantic, neurotic, romantic, exotic
You've lost control
The dream's gone cold
It's kind of sad
You've sold your soul
To the colourfield, the colourfield.