Final Hour - Bastille

So, what would you little maniacs like to do first?

Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers
Shut my eyes and count to ten
It goes in one ear out the other, one ear out the other
Burning bright right till the end
Now you'll be missing from the photographs, missing from the photographs

Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers
In my thoughts you're far away
And you are whistling a melody, whistling a melody
Crystallizing clear as day
Oh I can picture you so easily, picture you so easily

What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it?
What's gonna be left of the world, oh

Every minute and every hour
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more
Every stumble and each misfire
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more

Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers
Caught off guard by your favorite song
Oh I'll be dancing at a funeral, dancing at a funeral
Sleeping in the clothes you love
It's such a shame we had to see them burn, shame we had to see them burn

What's gonna be left of the world if you're not in it?
What's gonna be left of the world, oh

Every minute and every hour
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more
Every stumble and each misfire
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more

You might have to excuse me
I've lost control of all my senses
And you might have to excuse me
I've lost control of all my words
So get drunk, call me a fool
Put me in my place, put me in my place
Pick me up, up off the floor
Put me in my place, put me in my place

Every minute and every hour
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more
Every stumble and each misfire
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more

Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers
Cause every minute and every hour
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more