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