I spy with my little tired eye
Tiny as a firefly
A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket
We almost forgot it
Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?
Ooh…

They said the end is coming
Everyone′s up to something
I find myself running home to your
Sweet nothings
Outside they’re push and shoving
You′re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was
Sweet nothing

On the way home
I wrote a poem
You say, “what a mind”
This happens all the time
Ooh…

‘Cause they said the end is coming
Everyone’s up to something
I find myself running home to your
Sweet nothings
Outside they′re push and shoving
You′re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was
… nothing

Industry disrupters and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters
Out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore
“You should be doing more”
To you I can admit
That I’m just too soft for all of it

Ooh…

They said the end is coming
Everyone′s up to something
I find myself running home to your
Sweet nothings
Outside they’re push and shoving
You′re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was
Sweet nothing

They said the end is coming
Everyone’s up to something
I find myself running home to your
Sweet nothings
Outside they′re push and shoving
You’re in the kitchen humming
All that you ever wanted from me was
Sweet nothing