You're Living In Your Very Last House - Lo-Fang

Why am reaching again for the brushes?

When I paint your portrait

God, nothing happens

But I can choose to feel you

On my senses' horizon

You appear hesitantly like scattered islands

It’s standing here, peering out

I’m all the time seen by you

A chorus of angels use up all of heaven

You’re living in your very last house

You’re living in your very last house

You’re living in your very last house