He says your name out loud;nIn miniature rooms where no one’s found;nIt’s a desperate sound.nYou're on the distant shore!nAnd he stamps his feet downnYou hear his knuckles on your door.nAnd he wants to send you drawingsnDrawings of men with faithful handsnThey will make such good boyfriendsnAnd he wants to tell you storiesnStories of boys who stomped their feet saying,n“Shut – shut up I am dreaming of placesnWhere lovers have wings.”nn“I’ll meet you where the river forks;nWhen everyone else is deadnYou’ll be safe on the waternWe’ll be much younger than we remember.nYou're on a distant shore!nI stamp my feet down—nDown do you hear knucklesnOn your door. Do you understandnWhat I’m fighting for? nOceans never listen to us anyway. nOceans never listen to us anyway. nAnd if I fall into the drink,nI will say your name, before I sink.nBut oceans never listen to us anyway.nnAnd I’m afraid of the water;nAnd I’m afraid of the sky.nAnd I’m tired of waiting.nOceans never listen to us anyway nOceans never listen to us anywaynAnd if I fall into the drink,nI will say your name, before I sink.nBut oceans never listen to us anyway.nSo… don’t make a sound.nDon’t make a sound.nDon’t make a sound.nDon’t make a sound.nDon’t make a sound.nDon’t make a sound.nDon't, Don’t make a sound.nDon't, Don’t, Don't, Don’t make a sound.nDon't, Don’t make a sound.nYa da da... Ya da da da da...