Nic Arp - Language

Language

I don’t understand your language
But sing to me anyway, sing to me anyway
I want to feel your words

I don’t know what you’re saying
But I’ll listen to you anyway, I will listen to you anyway
So I can be sure I’ve heard

It’s the shape of your lips
It’s the movement of your tongue
Its the touch of your fingertips
It’s how your heart is hung

I don’t understand your stories
But tell ‘em to me anyway, tell ‘em to me anyway
I want to feel where you’re from

I don’t understand your question, man
But I’ll answer you anyway, I will answer you anyway
So you can know how far I’ve come

It’s the shape of my lips
It’s the movement of my tongue
Its the touch of my fingertips
It’s how my soul is hung

These noises that I make mean nothing to you
These songs that I sing seem so absurd
I will always be a stranger
So you must always be my savior
But how can I ever speak your words
How can I ever speak your words?

It’s the shape of our lips
It’s the movement of our tongues
Its the touch of our fingertips
It’s how our souls are sung

It’s the shape of my lips
It’s the movement of our tongue
Its the touch of our fingertips
It’s how our hearts are hung

It’s how this bell is rung

It’s how this song gets sung