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Brushstrokes of Reunion

de Manic Street Preachers

I listened to the sound of your singing, now the pain had reached
Its final limit
The colour of distance had found its mission, it was not a reminder
It was a vision, a vision

I was never ready to feel your pain
To understand the picture on my wall
But then you showed me the colour of your soul
A communication of your love

In brushstrokes of reunion
In brushstrokes of reunion

The garden will never look the same, so beautifully mundane
In comparison
You signed it with your name, then gave it to me
A fragile inheritance, inheritance

I was never ready to feel your pain
To understand the picture on my wall
But then you showed me the colour of your soul
A communication of your love

In brushstrokes of reunion
In brushstrokes of reunion

In brushstrokes of reunion
In brushstrokes of reunion

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