When a room becomes an altar   and what beast that must exist   it flies with music from our lips   and steals a kiss and blows it   out into the mist   where castles stand on cliffs   and cobbled streets they wind and drift   and moods are made and set but shift   this place where skies are low    and birds are big      We went to sleep in day   and woke again the same day   we have learned to cheat the time   and find the hours   that the clocks cannot define   as I looked up from that stage   I felt the thing that had been made   And how it raged   And how it raged      How to explain?   Something makes me howl   and shiver to the core   ah outside if it was raining   then inside there'd be a storm   we've got a pair of hands for climbing   and a pair of knees to spring   and a pair of balls for strength      and a pair of lungs to sing   and these simple chords    that say: music is the language of us all      To write these songs is to be written   ah the chorus always knows    what is in store   and what is more the thing that sings us   is the thing that makes us roar   I felt that beast 'kisso my neck    we clapped our hands    and heard them spread   there was a trumpet and a call   a pack of Spaniards screamed for more   music is the language of us all   music is the language of us all   music is the language of us all   music is the language of us all      I find it hard to speak emotional   cos these things are the things that    can't be said   and when it's struck it strikes   the memory from our heads   once I wrote to play's   to be immortal for a night   and despite the unknown hours   something happens   when the light turns out the lights   then we fade and yawn   to music that's the language of us all