Uk Shanty de Clean Bandit

January always brings a fear of creatures
Strong-holdings and salt in places yet to heal
Crying at the site of strings
She was there when they came for you
A great man and the child in you
Enough when I take you far from here
Enough to cut a morning view

Strange how a sound could change your feelings
Staring wide and dirty breathing
I remember how a calling came in
Scared of deceiving and all I could hear was "run!"
The fire, the fire