The smoke smell clings to sweat-soaked jeans
Once you spoke well, now you lean and sway
And the day dies, unfulfilled, unseen 
As you search for something true to say

These undone things like strings holding me down
Wires 'round a champagne cork
Oh come on unsung singer, shake your wings
The world's all ears and you're not talking

Speak up, speak up
Cus' there could be some truth to the things you say
Speak up, speak up
And show us all the gold underneath the grey
Where's the colour?

Does what you see in me agree with
What you want and where you are
Crave an image to worship from afar

So hold back, hold back
The fear, the facts
The in-box stacked with angry numbers
The world attacks
And the ink is on your hands
Compress the stress you're under

Speak up, speak up
Cus' there could be some truth in the things you say
Speak up, speak up
And show us all the gold underneath the grey
(Hear) the gilded horns say:

Speak up, speak up
Cus' there could be some truth in the things you say
Speak up, speak up
And show us all the gold underneath the grey
Where's the colour?