Trustful Hands

We are sentimental animals
We are undercover criminals
We were meant to make a thing or two
Meant to break the laws of gravity
Too, oh

Hold on
Go slow
Lights out
Let go
Stay put
At ease
Breathe out
Then in
Oh no, no, no
There comes chaos

Reach out
Like me
Easily
Sucked in
When I dance
In disorder
Do I want to
Make sense at all
Oh no, no, no
Not this time and

Comes and goes, comes and goes
Chaos is my second home
I don't mind where I land
As long as I'm in trustful hands

We are sentimental animals
We are undercover criminal
We were meant to make a thing or two
Meant to break the laws of gravity
Too oh

Burn bridges
Lose ground
Bite the dust
Where's order
When it's needed
Do I want to
Make some at all
No, no, no, no
There comes chaos
No, no, no, no
Not this time