Peripeteia (Milky Chance)

Broken hearts made of stone, did we lose our sensitivity? You can find them all alone, watching flaming things go by You're trying to catch the break of dawn, blame it on your curiosity So, eternally your inner demons come back and out into the sun And we have a lot of love to give But it's not with each to all the misery I dream of a past that we could have Feel like we made up so entirely x2 You stick around, you got it bad but no one's out there you can listen to It seems to be so hard to find the colorful state of mind Until you're trying to catch it all - blame it on your own philosophy Eventually your inner demons come back and out into the sun