I'm sick of blowing all this smoke out. Trying hard to feel doubt. My book dropped to the ground. At the part where the frontiers are all pulled down.
I'm choosing words that seem to be forgotten. As I use them. These are the same words that let me be forgiven. The minute I choose them. . So I won't try, try, try to sell my advice.
And the moon brings us back. I'm going back over to the islands. In between your smiles. There's a clue whether to scream or be silent. . And the wind blows sad and joyful.
That age old look is in your face. It's been there awhile. Tries not to say. That you've had your day. . But you have a faith. That looks both ways. The look in your eyes.
There is no time I don't mind around you. All things must pass away, all things have memories. Closer than their living day, no time I don't mind around you.
We've gone post electric. I've written down the concept. It's casual to deny. Along sentimental lines. . A little bronze age eclectic. And born for the first time.
You follow it back. You follow it all back. And then you take my dreams of nothing. You regard them all with nothing. . And through the unknown we go back.
I'll meet you outside the city halls. I'll be standing on the steps of the hall. I'll be waving 'til I find you. . You said, "Be there or be square. And meet me outside the hall".
It's all the little things. Descending in the hope for what tomorrow brings. Depending what you wear and what you choose to sing. But slumped forward on bars, seeing circles in stars.
Your heart's not the type to go beating by itself. Lyrics aside, then let it beat for someone else. Don't let your heart do the talking for your mind.