When there's no place you can turn to. And your pride is a burden you bear. A beginning with no ending. Time is dying, but nobody cares. Nobody dares.
(S. Engel). . Well, I'm back to make your face. So it smiles once again. And harpoon you like a whale. With a bent and rusty nail. . If your husband knew, he'd say.
Tomorrow will be Saturday. You'll wake and find I've gone away. But life goes on. You'll get along. How easy we can whisper lies. I've lied until I want to cry.
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It's your bicycle bells. And your Rembrandt swells. You're children like. And still breathing. It's your look of loss. When you're coming across. Makes me feel like a thief.
I've spent many a night. Lying on my back. Waiting for the dawn. To pierce and crack. And the ceiling. Hanging from the sky. And I envy the boy. Who grabbed the toy.
Suffocating eyes and fast hellos and last good-byes. Surround the night of me. Mustache large like smoke from his cigar. Coughs up a joke and laughs a net of sound.
Hello Mr. Big Shot. Say, you're looking smart. I've had a tiring day. I took the kids along to the park. . You've become a stranger. Every night with the boys.
Mist falls and his voice cracks from the morning. Flowers and my body feels like lead. Someone should have stopped the birds from singing today. Hammers from striking nails into clay.
Over the rooftop sails Billy. A string tied to his underwear. Through cobbled stone streets a child races. And shouts "Billy, come down from there". .
Wasn't it a good year. Wasn't filled with talking. It still moves through my heart. From time to time. City after city. Granite gray as morning. Heroes died in subways left behind.
I seen a hand, I seen a vision. It was reaching through the clouds, To risk a dream. . A shadow cross the sky. And it crushed into the ground, Just like a beast.
The little clock's stopped ticking now. We're swallowed in the stomached rue. The only sound to tear the night. Comes from the man upstairs. . His bloated belching figure stomps.
He's a hero of the war. All the neighborhood is talkin' 'bout your son. Mrs. Reiley get his medals. Hand them 'round to everyone. Show his gun to all the children in the street.
It's your bicycle bells. And your Rembrandt swells. You're children like. And still breathing. It's your look of loss. When you're coming across. Makes me feel like a thief.
There's a butterfly circling the beach. Searching the rocks where you are. He chooses your hair, and that's where he belongs. For he's lost like a star.
You'll lose your way. A boy child rides upon your back. Take him away. Through mirrors dark and blessed with cracks. Through forgotten courtyards. Where you used to search for youth.
The Angels of Ashes. Will give back your passions. Again and again. . Their light shafts. Will reach through the darkness. And touch you my friend. . They'll fly in a mind dance.
What was it like when we were young. Sleeping in each others arms. Walking in each others dreams. Was it only yesterday. I've forgotten anyway. . What was it like to hear your name.
See the dwarfs an' see the giants. Which one would you choose to be. . And if you can't get that together. Here's the answer, here's the key. . You can freeze like thirty century man.