heydays are passing. friendless and thin, from back doors of cafes, hid by the din. hey boys, down by the bonfire glow. oh yeah, rain on you selfish lovers. hey girls, drunk on the weekends. oh, my sweet angel in the graveyard, I know you’re picking out a stone for me. keep it clean and sheltered from the moon. write, I loved and lost (you) at sea. oh, my breath is all but dead. no, alcohol won’t cure no head. lying on my back as the daylight grew, the portrait helped me see the worst in you. so, I’m a secret locked up in the box, where they keep their hopeless serenades and your knives with my name on them. time would stop and in silence shake when I’d shape my arm around their waist. move on, move on! it’s been so long and I won’t have the tears for that now. move on, move on! it’s been so long and I won’t have the tears for the years I’ve had so many tumbling down.
[thx glms on march]
