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The floor moves beneath us to the beat of the kick
Sound reverberating from the amp to the brick
And the smell of smoke in my clothes and hair
Your hand hits the bass line and the rhythm goes on
And I think I'm in love, think I belong
And I hear the old train go down by Evangeline
And I see smoke clouds in the air Et je vois des nuages de fumée dans l'air
The room is made of dancing and the sound of the bass
Magic, only magic that we know how to
We're singing like a choir in the city church
Trying to find some truth in the chords and the words
And we chase them down and clutch our hands around
But they are smoke clouds in the air
The harmonies are thirds and fifths
Hanging on the minor like we'd hang from a cliff
It's all a show, it's all a show
My eyes are closed or looking at you
In the midst of the crowded room
And when we melt together
We are smoke clouds in the air
On devient une nuage de fumée dans l'air
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