| sing when i’m feeling |
7 |
| i sing when i’m |
7 |
| what do you mean |
6 |
| are you talking about |
5 |
| i don’t want to |
5 |
| get out of here |
4 |
| talk to me like |
4 |
| i never knew we |
4 |
| knew we had a |
4 |
| never knew we had |
4 |
| what are you talking |
4 |
| thing that’s happened to |
3 |
| to me this week |
3 |
| happened to me this |
3 |
| rolled down the stairs |
3 |
| was your voice that |
3 |
| first beautiful thing that’s |
3 |
| voice that brought me |
3 |
| beautiful thing that’s happened |
3 |
| had never existed but |
3 |
| this is the first |
3 |
| as if it had |
3 |
| i didn’t mean to |
3 |
| the stairs to the |
3 |
| that’s happened to me |
3 |
| “sometimes i sing when |
3 |
| the first beautiful thing |
3 |
| down the stairs to |
3 |
| if it had never |
3 |
| stairs to the entrance |
3 |
| that brought me here |
3 |
| never existed but in |
3 |
| it had never existed |
3 |
| it was your voice |
3 |
| in the middle of |
3 |
| to the entrance hall |
3 |
| your voice that brought |
3 |
| had a music room |
3 |
| we had a music |
3 |
| is the first beautiful |
3 |
| when i’m feeling sad” |
3 |
| night rebeca rolled down |
2 |
| then she notices the |
2 |
| the piece of furniture |
2 |
| i never left the |
2 |
| fate if you will |
2 |
| her dollhouse away into |
2 |
| did not kill her |
2 |
| imagined us like that |
2 |
| dress and spoke to |
2 |
| the drawers is locked |
2 |
| or the backing vocals |
2 |
| somewhere else and stuck |
2 |
| and there was only |
2 |
| voluntary unawareness of these |
2 |
| want to get out |
2 |
| with white clouds flying |
2 |
| white dress and spoke |
2 |
| up once and forever |
2 |
| often voluntary unawareness of |
2 |
| been kept in this |
2 |
| i cannot remember anyone |
2 |
| times i threw her |
2 |
| knitted her hair like |
2 |
| whole inertia was set |
2 |
| or fate if you |
2 |
| the storm ceased and |
2 |
| would not have a |
2 |
| on the wet grass |
2 |
| someone cut me out |
2 |
| our sister is right |
2 |
| these processes that lead |
2 |
| so don’t tell me |
2 |
| when i’m feeling sad |
2 |
| i would not dare |
2 |
| that has a beginning |
2 |
| didn’t even get a |
2 |
| she wore a white |
2 |
| slowly opened her lips |
2 |
| we had a kitchen |
2 |
| sky was crystal blue |
2 |
| as she came closer |
2 |
| kept in this house |
2 |
| white clouds flying fast |
2 |
| man entering the room |
2 |
| find a meaning to |
2 |
| what are you saying |
2 |
| darker secrets have been |
2 |
| anything changed in the |
2 |
| do things we will |
2 |
| day you’ll understand it |
2 |
| you feel that manly |
2 |
| in a vaguely arabian |
2 |
| and stuck me in |
2 |
| the first and only |
2 |
| whether we want to |
2 |
| free will is the |
2 |
| single thing that happens |
2 |
| i never heard you |
2 |
| the same old argument |
2 |
| this house as if |
2 |
| a vaguely arabian way |
2 |
| back to her own |
2 |
| could smell the perfume |
2 |
| picks up the gun |
2 |
| thing that happens in |
2 |
| been perfectly predictable had |
2 |
| a fresh mint breeze |
2 |
| young man entering the |
2 |
| and only universal law |
2 |
| by hundreds of thousands |
2 |
| the one who gave |
2 |
| for a strong wind |
2 |
| those pictures in my |
2 |
| put those pictures in |
2 |
| a pleat on her |
2 |
| her melody ends in |
2 |
| you’ll understand it all” |
2 |
| her white feet bare |
2 |
| of these processes that |
2 |
| rebeca slowly opened her |
2 |
| we once heard and |
2 |
| played us for years |
2 |
| red flower she was |
2 |
| and now remember is |
2 |
| i threw her down |
2 |
| scissors from somewhere else |
2 |
| carrying on her lapel |
2 |
| a music room either |
2 |
| thus go infinitely back |
2 |
| to the day the |
2 |
| shaped us into the |
2 |
| her sky blue eyes |
2 |
| years you have been |
2 |
| but i could not |
2 |
| even get a pleat |
2 |
| to get out of |
2 |
| me on a barren |
2 |
| to the ground to |
2 |
| not to tell you |
2 |
| will is the name |
2 |
| how i wish i |
2 |
| first and only universal |
2 |
| it doesn’t have a |
2 |
| it is the first |
2 |
| everything that has a |
2 |
| what’s wrong with you |
2 |
| clouds covered the sky |
2 |
| millions of events that |
2 |
| doesn’t have a reason |
2 |
| mint breeze was blowing |
2 |
| it the butterfly effect |
2 |
| liked you to sing |
2 |
| we finished the works |
2 |
| ball started rolling and |
2 |
| i’m not sad about |
2 |
| the breeze had become |
2 |
| affect and eventually provoke |
2 |
| put her dollhouse away |
2 |
| the middle of nowhere |
2 |
| known beforehand all of |
2 |
| out with scissors from |
2 |
| i’m not so sure |
2 |
| we would not have |
2 |
| her voice flows from |
2 |
| entering the room at |
2 |
| i didn’t know you |
2 |
| predictable had we known |
2 |
| things we will inevitably |
2 |
| in the years you |
2 |
| to tell you who |
2 |
| that happens in this |
2 |
| who are you shooting |
2 |
| the beginning of an |
2 |
| want to or not |
2 |
| frequently imagined her demise |
2 |
| could thus go infinitely |
2 |
| never heard you sing |
2 |
| see the young man |
2 |
| remember this house as |
2 |
| make my head ache |
2 |
| if you feel that |
2 |
| one who gave them |
2 |
| was only her and |
2 |
| cannot see the young |
2 |
| of thousands of millions |
2 |
| got sick and put |
2 |
| i tried to speak |
2 |
| are you shooting with |
2 |
| dreamt rebeca was alive |
2 |
| now remember is never |
2 |
| ground to keep from |
2 |
| the ball started rolling |
2 |
| else and stuck me |
2 |
| a reason and a |
2 |
| who gave them instructions |
2 |
| she notices the presence |
2 |
| voice flows from note |
2 |
| seems back to her |
2 |
| didn’t mean to intrude |
2 |
| there was nothing else |
2 |
| you who murdered me” |
2 |
| the years you have |
2 |
| “one day you’ll understand |
2 |
| spoke to my ear |
2 |
| take it if you |
2 |
| is the name we |
2 |
| us into the characters |
2 |
| has a reason and |
2 |
| bangs; its echoes resound |
2 |
| rebeca was facing me |
2 |
| the presence of her |
2 |
| asked me not to |
2 |
| processes that lead us |
2 |
| dollhouse away into a |
2 |
| never went into detail |
2 |
| we will inevitably do |
2 |
| entrance hall and broke |
2 |
| conversation we once heard |
2 |
| flew over my head |
2 |
| you have no ties |
2 |
| there’s nothing better to |
2 |
| secrets have been kept |
2 |
| into the characters in |
2 |
| smell the perfume of |
2 |
| give it to me |
2 |
| i’m going to kill |
2 |
| eventually provoke effects that |
2 |
| there was only her |
2 |
| on a barren moor |
2 |
| beginning has an end |
2 |
| her and me on |
2 |
| of events that influence |
2 |
| you don’t look well |
2 |
| hall and broke her |
2 |
| better than getting lost |
2 |
| would have been perfectly |
2 |
| its echoes resound in |
2 |
| was set up once |
2 |
| sparks knitted her hair |
2 |
| arbitrary they may seem |
2 |
| how we got here |
2 |
| sky blue eyes crossed |
2 |
| threw her down the |
2 |
| hundreds of thousands of |
2 |
| “i am about to |
2 |
| not dare to interrupt |
2 |
| to find a meaning |
2 |
| how excessive or how |
2 |
| heard and now remember |
2 |
| have liked you to |
2 |
| and eventually provoke effects |
2 |
| day the ball started |
2 |
| that is your problem |
2 |
| opened her lips and |
2 |
| going to kill you |
2 |
| where’s the main door |
2 |
| rebeca who made you |
2 |
| beginning of an aria |
2 |
| was the one who |
2 |
| remember is never the |
2 |
| and it’s friday already |
2 |
| imagined us like that” |
2 |
| the entrance hall and |
2 |
| and broke her neck |
2 |
| beforehand all of those |
2 |
| would not dare to |
2 |
| you make my head |
2 |
| kitchen in the south |
2 |
| sleep well last night |
2 |
| melody ends in slightly |
2 |
| a strong wind was |
2 |
| sick and put her |
2 |
| inertia was set up |
2 |
| lost in the middle |
2 |
| and spoke to my |
2 |
| insurmountable yet often voluntary |
2 |
| existed but in words |
2 |
| house as if someone |
2 |
| reason and a purpose |
2 |
| of the drawers is |
2 |
| no matter how unexpected |
2 |
| perfectly predictable had we |
2 |
| rolling and this whole |
2 |
| she concentrates and sings |
2 |
| have a music room |
2 |
| i dreamt rebeca was |
2 |
| if someone had mentioned |
2 |
| cloudless sky was crystal |
2 |
| never left the house |
2 |
| backing vocals to a |
2 |
| i had to throw |
2 |
| she cannot see the |
2 |
| excessive or how arbitrary |
2 |
| name we give to |
2 |
| lady sings a slow |
2 |
| it happened as it |
2 |
| to do things we |
2 |
| friends at the table |
2 |
| changed in the years |
2 |
| echoes resound in the |
2 |
| to the drawer and |
2 |
| had we known beforehand |
2 |
| black clouds covered the |
2 |
| happened as it had |
2 |
| a beginning has an |
2 |
| one of the drawers |
2 |
| i don’t care about |
2 |
| could not hear them |
2 |
| the ground to keep |
2 |
| unawareness of these processes |
2 |
| world is preceded by |
2 |
| had a kitchen in |
2 |
| would have liked you |
2 |
| then pronounced some words |
2 |
| she walked towards me |
2 |
| every night rebeca rolled |
2 |
| room at her back |
2 |
| strong wind was blowing |
2 |
| her lips and said |
2 |
| the name we give |
2 |
| her down the staircase |
2 |
| [the lady sings a |
2 |
| breeze had become a |
2 |
| sometimes i sing when |
2 |
| where are you going |
2 |
| i found it this |
2 |
| she was carrying on |
2 |
| to create all of |
2 |
| have been kept in |
2 |
| a white dress and |
2 |
| but how i wish |
2 |
| have imagined us like |
2 |
| i could smell the |
2 |
| the table and foes |
2 |
| that lead us to |
2 |
| and black clouds covered |
2 |
| storm ceased and there |
2 |
| the perfume of a |
2 |
| thousands of millions of |
2 |
| an aria or the |
2 |
| i had a nightmare |
2 |
| rebeca rolled down the |
2 |
| what are you waiting |
2 |
| once heard and now |
2 |
| must be going crazy |
2 |
| at her twisted body |
2 |
| after so many years |
2 |
| where did they go |
2 |
| intending to use it |
2 |
| ends in slightly darker |
2 |
| me not to tell |
2 |
| was facing me and |
2 |
| cannot remember anyone else |
2 |
| flower she was carrying |
2 |
| nothing makes any sense |
2 |
| not sad about rebeca |
2 |
| only her and me |
2 |
| her hair like golden |
2 |
| lead us to do |
2 |
| from being blown away |
2 |
| bare on the wet |
2 |
| go infinitely back to |
2 |
| the young man entering |
2 |
| we must be dead |
2 |
| to keep from being |
2 |
| you know it was |
2 |
| eyes crossed with white |
2 |
| but it is the |
2 |
| crossed with white clouds |
2 |
| feet bare on the |
2 |
| when i’m feeling lonely |
2 |
| and me on a |
2 |
| do whether we want |
2 |
| under a leaden sky |
2 |
| the room at her |
2 |
| flows from note to |
2 |
| blue eyes crossed with |
2 |
| she seems back to |
2 |
| she then pronounced some |
2 |
| in slightly darker tones |
2 |
| as it had to |
2 |
| happens in this world |
2 |
| i wish i had |
2 |
| you shooting with that |
2 |
| way of the world |
2 |
| vocals to a trip-hop |
2 |
| note to note in |
2 |
| she stared at me |
2 |
| that’s the way of |
2 |
| but she stared at |
2 |
| i didn’t sleep well |
2 |
| with scissors from somewhere |
2 |
| infinitely back to the |
2 |
| as if someone had |
2 |
| but rebeca didn’t even |
2 |
| of those uncountable factors |
2 |
| where she found the |
2 |
| it if you feel |
2 |
| the way of the |
2 |
| every single thing that |
2 |
| we known beforehand all |
2 |
| nothing better to do |
2 |
| from somewhere else and |
2 |
| we want to or |
2 |
| he stops to listen |
2 |
| rebeca didn’t even get |
2 |
| tell you who murdered |
2 |
| the other way round |
2 |
| wore a white dress |
2 |
| a kitchen in the |
2 |
| had to throw myself |
2 |
| who made you like |
2 |
| fortunately i found a |
2 |
| i found a kitchen |
2 |
| sun sparks knitted her |
2 |
| in all these years |
2 |
| the day the ball |
2 |
| from note to note |
2 |
| the times i threw |
2 |
| is the first and |
2 |
| table and foes at |
2 |
| i frequently imagined her |
2 |
| it could be the |
2 |
| of millions of events |
2 |
| and sun sparks knitted |
2 |
| was carrying on her |
2 |
| about a minute later |
2 |
| will inevitably do whether |
2 |
| even trees uprooted whole |
2 |
| made us friends at |
2 |
| pleat on her dress |
2 |
| had become a violent |
2 |
| a little red flower |
2 |
| aria or the backing |
2 |
| shot bangs; its echoes |
2 |
| the source of misunderstanding |
2 |
| am about to tell |
2 |
| she would have imagined |
2 |
| fresh mint breeze was |
2 |
| ceased and there was |
2 |
| be the beginning of |
2 |
| she got sick and |
2 |
| back to the day |
2 |
| and put her dollhouse |
2 |
| didn’t sleep well last |
2 |
| resound in the sudden |
2 |
| is preceded by hundreds |
2 |
| are the source of |
2 |
| you asked me not |
2 |
| has a beginning has |
2 |
| white feet bare on |
2 |
| us to do things |
2 |
| little red flower she |
2 |
| of an aria or |
2 |
| are you waiting for |
2 |
| we give to ignorance |
2 |
| note in a vaguely |
2 |
| inevitably do whether we |
2 |
| set up once and |
2 |
| of a little red |
2 |
| where have you been |
2 |
| don’t talk to me |
2 |
| i could not hear |
2 |
| away into a cardboard |
2 |
| cut me out with |
2 |
| presence of her listener] |
2 |
| perfume of a little |
2 |
| hair like golden yarn |
2 |
| facing me and speaking |
2 |
| about to tell you |
2 |
| she does nothing else |
2 |
| started rolling and this |
2 |
| call it the butterfly |
2 |
| this world is preceded |
2 |
| to a trip-hop theme |
2 |
| how arbitrary they may |
2 |
| it’s always the same |
2 |
| all of those uncountable |
2 |
| a barren moor under |
2 |
| not have a music |
2 |
| could be the beginning |
2 |
| and this whole inertia |
2 |
| that explains a lot |
2 |
| she was the one |
2 |
| to her own self |
2 |
| moor under a leaden |
2 |
| keep from being blown |
2 |
| in this world is |
2 |
| she never went into |
2 |
| yet often voluntary unawareness |
2 |
| had to create all |
2 |
| the cloudless sky was |
2 |
| is always the same |
2 |
| or how arbitrary they |
2 |
| characters in a paperback |
2 |
| we could thus go |
2 |
| us friends at the |
2 |
| this whole inertia was |
2 |
| get a pleat on |
2 |
| at the table and |
2 |
| me out with scissors |
2 |
| to note in a |
2 |
| barren moor under a |
2 |
| characters in her mind |
2 |
| branches flew over my |
2 |
| have been perfectly predictable |
2 |
| in the south wing |
2 |
| notices the presence of |
2 |
| preceded by hundreds of |
2 |
| would have imagined us |
2 |
| become a violent gale |
2 |
| the backing vocals to |
2 |
| looking at her twisted |
2 |
| i know and remember |
2 |
| rebeca would have liked |
2 |
| the characters in her |
2 |