In the shadows of tall buildings Of fallen angels on the ceilings Oily feathers in bronze and concrete Faded colors, pieces left incomplete The line
I won't let you go I won't let you go Not to Detroit City Not to Chicago Well I won't let you go And I won't let you go Not to Mississippi Not to Tupelo
In here it's always midnight In here it's always dark In here there's always a shadow cast By these florescent lights In here forever is a dying myth
I'd like to see you out one night Dressed up like a Rock 'n' Roll star Straight out of some strange magazine Then I know I'd love you more But if I see
Scene one, curtain up See the couple, coffee shop Beatniks beating out beebop Rainy day, skies are gray But the couple feeling gay Boy is laughing at
She likes the photograph The one of you and Simone Out in the rain on a Sunday morning She likes to take it out Only when she's feeling down And then
I can see by the light of a broken sky That you're on the mend The photograph of your broken hearted eyes Will fade and bend I can see your face, A black
What is it in nature which lends its hand To the tongues of young wondering lovers in flight That by the silent boot of a dying word A scythe was taught
Ceramic tile fluorescent, yellow iodine I can feel your presence Sedated by the heavy medicine And come around, come around, come around The flowers
I can hear you sleeping Like a softly penned letter That you plan on keeping Sound asleep next to me Under the ink of a drying sky If I were a wordsmith
sound asleep in an ocean of crashes sound asleep in pouring black rain bedside voices praying with tears of ashes stung by the salt of weepig skies
A song for when you go to keep you company, A song for when you go so you'll think of me. A song for when you go to California, West of the city lights
On my father's legacy Is handed down by angels' wings A bittersweet melody Is now mine to sing Every precious memory And broken hearted tragedy Will walk
stars and the fish Just to be happy, not to be selfish Why, oh why is the sun in my eye Can you tell me sister moonshine? You better take out the trash little
Never, never ending Constant motion, constancy Forever complicated, Always overkill, yeah Never, never for me Never silent, never for me Always overkill
The brackish roots of river pine Anchored in my curving spine Bend to the whims of wind's design And I lay down at your side Above the brine of reds
A silver ring and a bottle of rum The lonesome coup is nothing new I'll toast it anyway just for fun How could we know about this? She gave that little
The seconds on the day of the Easter parade There was a flower child Running as fast as she can A new shade of rays and some bucket shoes And an angel
