my eyes pinned inside

with green jewels
hanging like christmas stars
from a golden vein

this is a story

some kind of story

and with the pages distressed that you held to your chest

they were mangled and dog-eared while the rest were just mangy and gory

we're going home

you and i have memories
longer than the road that stretches out ahead

there will be time, there will be time

to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet

there will be time to murder and create

and time for all the works and days of hands

a road not taken

and sorry i could not travel both

a truth universally acknowledged

that a single man in possession of a good fortune

must be in want of a wife

burn and fade

we won't ever stay the same
if you and i can't take some blame
all i know is how to burn and fade
away

in a station of the metro

the apparition of these faces in the crowd

petals on a wet, black bough

paralyze in light

my talented friend, jess

a beginning, an explanation

false horizons
throwing me out
to the place where
where the sun goes down
to the place where
where we will go down
right on the water
as the sun goes down

(the sun)

our timing is off
you dry me out
take my blood
and let it down
it's in the flowers
the bodies float down


false horizons
throwing me out
to the place where
the sun, the sun goes down
to the place where
where we will go down
where the water holds the sound
our timing was off
you dry me out
take my blood
and let it down
and in the flowers
the bodies float down
to the place where
the bodies go down
and i go down

i go down