forty-seven strings are pulled
|
by this angelic, beaten girl
|
and it breaks our hearts to hear
|
the music that comes out of her
|
shoulders hang on folded chairs
|
this will be our church tonight
|
we have dug our foxholes here
|
not an atheist in sight
|
laughing, shaking, taking oaths
|
breaking sacramental cups
|
we pour the magic in our coats
|
thinking it can leave with us
|
|
but itĄŻs the wrong way out
|
twenty steps but itĄŻs so harming
|
when they talk out loud
|
bent to break your fingers on me
|
|
IĄŻve been breathing evil air
|
sharing needles with the sky
|
looking up, remembering
|
regina said theyĄŻre just old light
|
but you somehow understood
|
my oversaturated skin
|
you held your hand up to my neck
|
and played me like a theramin
|
I see london I see france
|
and all the things that we wonĄŻt do
|
and if I never leave this chair
|
maybe I can go with you
|
|
but itĄŻs a long way out
|
twenty steps but itĄŻs still harming
|
when they talk out loud
|
bent to play your fingers on me
|
itĄŻs a long way out
|
past the bar and past the awning
|
past the easy crowd
|
back into the end
|
|
we have found our solace here
|
in this unexpected place
|
like a startled, dying man
|
kneels in prayer just in case
|
and while the night sky sadly lit
|
all that you were sleeping through
|
doubt took my friend Benjamin
|
but he left his keys with you
|
so IĄŻll kiss the air instead
|
as not to disturb your sleep
|
and if you never wake, my love
|
maybe you can come with me
|
|
but itĄŻs a long way out
|
twenty steps but itĄŻs so harming
|
When they talk out loud
|
bent to praise your fingers on me
|
itĄŻs a long way out
|
past the bar and past the awning
|
past the easy crowd
|
back into the end of harmony
|
back into the end of harmony
|
back into the end of harmony
|
back into the end
|
|
-----------------
|
The Living Room
|
| The Dresden Dolls |
