Friday, March 29, 2013

Time




We walked on dampened sand
Time is a curse of man
I kissed your velvet hand
Time is a curse of man
That only shows itself when it's damned
We broke the face, destroyed the hands
And so we changed the plans
Time is a curse of man

Behind the brink of light
Time is a cursive flight
Beyond our drunken sight
Time is a cursive flight
With far too much finesse for lies
Calligraphy as death's disguise
And yet we still won the night
Time is a cursive flight

With no tomorrows to hold us down
Time is a vacant sound
Back and forth we twist around
Time is a vacant sound
One that we have never found
Just a prison we can live without
So if tomorrow never comes to town
We've got nothing here to cry about
Time is a vacant sound

No comments:

Post a Comment