On the Edge Of - Low

Nothing to steal you’ve got nothing to love

Nothing to spill because oh we’re so innocent

Oh, oh, on the edge of

Oh, oh, on the edge of

I could have built you a house on the ocean

The ocean repeating, receeding in to the sun

So cut to you, Daniel, now cut to the live feed

Cut through our bodies at last bleeding in to one

Oh, oh, on the edge of

Oh, oh, on the edge of

Oh, oh, oh