I look out to the fields
Where blood is shed upon the ground
I breathe in and breathe out
Change the channel, mute the sound
I take a match, a cigarette, and a walk to clear my head
My stomach's reeling at the thought of all those human beings dead

I breathe in, I breathe out
Then go down to do an interview
About a song, three minutes long
I just need something to do
Especially when your dearest friend
Was sent to cover Kosovo
His last assignment brought a bullet
And now he's gone, he's gone

Feels like I'm fiddlin' while Rome is burning down
Should I lay my fiddle down, take a rifle from the ground
I need the ghost to breathe a northern gale tonight
'Cause I'm paralyzed, I'm paralyzed

I packed his books up, left the office
Went to tell the wife the news
She fell in shock, the baby kicked
And shed a tear inside the womb
I breathed in, I breathed out,
Soaked the ground up with my eyes
It's hard to say a healing word
When your tongue is paralyzed

I breathe in, I breathe out
I breathe in, I breathe out
I breathe in, I breathe out



Behind the Song:
"'Paralyzed' was written in Germany after Leigh and I had an interview with a journalist whose best friend, another journalist, had just been killed while covering the war atrocities in Kosovo in 1999. The death was especially tragic because the wife of the journalistís friend was expecting a baby soon and he was the one that had to break the news to her." - Matt Slocum (Sixpence None The Richer)