Free Lyrics 2026

Bright Eyes ~ On My Way To Work


There's a car parked where the block begins And these people singing praises Say it's all because of him And there's a bird perched on a frayed wet wire And his voice sings out for a lover But it's covered by the choir Of voices reaching way beyond the rafters With devotion they perform these sacred tasks They cross themselves and offer up their checkbooks Slight suffering is not too much to ask Besides, we all are making money And we're all fucking alone And we don't know what we're doing Maybe just buying us some hope Because we know that we are lonely Well, yeah, lonely that's for sure And the older ones are coughing Yeah, the older ones they're dying Maybe we're all dying I pass a graveyard on my way to work Today I saw two dozen white roses on a fresh new mound of dirt And I wondered about the occupant When the darkness finally swallowed him was he calm and content? Or was he sweating in a struggle to keep breathing Ripping apart the sheets that dressed his bed Crying out loud for someone to help him Then collapsing on his back all pale and dead Maybe it's me who's this unstable Always obsessed about the end Why can't I let what happens happen And just enjoy the time I spend? Oh, how I wish it was that easy But when there is no point to anything You know it gets a bit confusing Why it is that I keep going Why is it that we keep going? more free lyrics

There's a car parked where the block begins
And these people singing praises
Say it's all because of him
And there's a bird perched on a frayed wet wire
And his voice sings out for a lover
But it's covered by the choir
Of voices reaching way beyond the rafters
With devotion they perform these sacred tasks
They cross themselves and offer up their checkbooks
Slight suffering is not too much to ask
Besides, we all are making money
And we're all fucking alone
And we don't know what we're doing
Maybe just buying us some hope
Because we know that we are lonely
Well, yeah, lonely that's for sure
And the older ones are coughing
Yeah, the older ones they're dying
Maybe we're all dying
I pass a graveyard on my way to work
Today I saw two dozen white roses
on a fresh new mound of dirt
And I wondered about the occupant
When the darkness finally swallowed him
was he calm and content?
Or was he sweating in a struggle to keep breathing
Ripping apart the sheets that dressed his bed
Crying out loud for someone to help him
Then collapsing on his back all pale and dead
Maybe it's me who's this unstable
Always obsessed about the end
Why can't I let what happens happen
And just enjoy the time I spend?
Oh, how I wish it was that easy
But when there is no point to anything
You know it gets a bit confusing
Why it is that I keep going
Why is it that we keep going?

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Globalized Sounds

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The Power of the Scene

When the lights dim and the first note is played, strangers become synchronized. The tremor when thousands sing together, and the melody that still echoes after the crowd disperses - this is an experience that no screen can convey. We look forward to the return of large-scale concerts to the essence of music, and we also look forward to small livehouses continuing to nourish the most vibrant soil of music.

Crossing Borders

Music transcends languages - even if you don't understand the lyrics, you can still shed tears or dance. It transcends cultures - the drumbeats of Nigeria and the chants of Iceland coexist under the same sky. It transcends generations - a song from half a century ago can still bring tears to the eyes of today's young people.

We Create Together

The future of global music is not determined by algorithms, nor is it monopolized by a few giants. It is shaped by every person who presses the play button. Maintain your curiosity, step out of your comfort zone. Support independent musicians and attend live performances. Seek connections through music - because we believe that a song can change a day, and music can change the world.

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