I’m no rasputin, you ain’t no rapunzel
I have willingly fallen, and you have cut your own hair
Thought we needed motion, at least until the war kicks in
I go out in the world with you the last night of the burning flare
Trains will follow trains under the dun, under the moon
And I do believe that all that I can do is croon
And I do believe that there was a morning that I saw your true love
Burning
Next to me
But now there’s ashes, from exquisite eyelashes
So far away, past the border, past the turnstyle
And even I know, and I do believe, and I do believe that there was a morning
I saw your true love burning next to me
But now there’s ashes, from exquisite eyelashes
So far away, past the border, past the turnstyle
Sometimes I wonder if it is true humility
For this humiliation
Walking in the twilight, walking in the crows of day
From this station of passion, I go |
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