Kings Of Convenience

All I do is sleep all day, and think of you
A memory of the cushion life I'm clinging to
The image of a mutual one, our haven
The sombre chords of our song, the fading
Love is no big truth
Driven by our genes, we are simple selfish beings
A symphony that's you
Joyously awaking the ignorant and sleeping
Passion and its brother hate, they come and go