I remember every detail of it
|
The smells of the orange grove
|
Your dress, and the way it hung upon you
|
That look that was in your eyes
|
At that time in the day, the sun was weary
|
And that weariness bled to us
|
With your hands you could steady any vessel
|
And those hands wiped the blood from me
|
|
We are not the lions of the daylight, daylight
|
We are more like wolves in dead of night, night
|
We are more the raven in the schoolyard, schoolyard
|
Than all the larks about to sing, sing
|
|
I remember calm before this chaos
|
The sound as the coffee boiled
|
And the clear cup I watched the sugar melt in
|
In this stillness, a nagging thought
|
|
We are not the lions of the daylight, daylight
|
We are more like wolves in dead of night, night
|
We are more the raven in the schoolyard, schoolyard
|
Than all the larks about to sing, sing
|
|
We are not the lions of the daylight, daylight
|
We are more like wolves in dead of night, night
|
We are more the raven in the schoolyard, schoolyard
|
Than all the larks about to sing, sing
|
|
-----------------
|
Ravens And Wolves
|
| Tired Pony |
