Here we are, don't tell a soul
|
of secrets held with arms bent back against their fold
|
Say one word, don't breathe too fast.
|
We're both compelled to break off everything that lasts
|
|
Now it's four more steps til we reach the top
|
and Heaven knows when we get there, we'll never stop.
|
|
You bring the cigarettes, and I'll bring the conversation.
|
and if everything works out right, we will sing.
|
|
The cupboard's bare, all lines are down.
|
The leaves are turning a nicer shade as they hit the ground.
|
Say one word, keep it close
|
We are trying to understand what we love the most.
|
|
Now it's four more steps til we reach the top
|
and Heaven knows when we get there, we'll never stop.
|
|
You bring the cigarettes, and I'll bring the conversation.
|
and if everything works out right, we will sing.
|
|
My heart and I have yet to meet,
|
but I heed every word that it says to me.
|
|
Now it's four more steps til we reach the top
|
and Heaven knows when we get there, we'll never stop.
|
|
You bring the cigarettes, and I, I'll bring the conversation.
|
and if everything works out right, we will sing.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Tragedy Of David Gribble
|
| Inkwell |
