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Marit Larsen - Fences
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In the heat of the battle, he who hesitates is lost
Every word is here on my tongue, but won't come out at any cost
All the aching, yearning
These fences, we invent with what we say
These fences, are growing taller every day
These delicate fences, on my mind and in my way

Waiting for the dust to settle, I'm waiting for another go
Is it time I realize now, forgiving me is not what you want
All the tossing, turning
These fences, we invent with what we say
These fences, are growing taller every day
These delicate fences, on my mind and in my way