WINE AND GATES
Dancing On The Edge Of A Future?
seriously folks...
or so the joke goes, for a song
we dance like fools until the egg comes out of the yolk
a place for tomorrow in our hearts, but tonight haunts
a ghost with your name, for a sincerity refund
the talk of crisis in the lams and doles of reality
regret and the vinegary finger of desperation's love
with but a purpose on the table, your name is sealed into the city
walking by the river, of a shame was the heights it took
to liberate the aggression's noise from the crimes of the heart
the spoil of unity in the vague way we were, is but a silvery songs look
in the night sky, the more you remember the more it starts...
loving the alien, the start of something new
the water's that make us a believer know the cull of a curse
in the hidden mores of anxious eyes, is the will to keep the least due
not the brook, not the suck of mortality, not the jaded mind of service to worse
the dance has folded with your nature intact
the livid count of sweetness in our veins, one to direct to devouring pressure
is your face a farce of us or is it form for the patient fact
death is such a lousy place for the kiss of a lifetime, are you sure?
or so the joke goes, for a song
we dance like fools until the egg comes out of the yolk
a place for tomorrow in our hearts, but tonight haunts
a ghost with your name, for a sincerity refund
the talk of crisis in the lams and doles of reality
regret and the vinegary finger of desperation's love
with but a purpose on the table, your name is sealed into the city
walking by the river, of a shame was the heights it took
to liberate the aggression's noise from the crimes of the heart
the spoil of unity in the vague way we were, is but a silvery songs look
in the night sky, the more you remember the more it starts...
loving the alien, the start of something new
the water's that make us a believer know the cull of a curse
in the hidden mores of anxious eyes, is the will to keep the least due
not the brook, not the suck of mortality, not the jaded mind of service to worse
the dance has folded with your nature intact
the livid count of sweetness in our veins, one to direct to devouring pressure
is your face a farce of us or is it form for the patient fact
death is such a lousy place for the kiss of a lifetime, are you sure?
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Dancing On The Edge Of A Future?
Dancing On The Edge Of A Future?
