You haven't changed at all
|
Not much does in a frame on a wall
|
The paper's tarred and brown
|
If I hold you too close, you blur
|
Fearing it will fade away in darkness
|
|
So throw it overboard
|
And the next time we hit shore
|
I will stay behind
|
But she's washed up on the shore
|
Her salty spit her pours so pure
|
Leaves me choking on the sand
|
And her waves come in again
|
And she takes my hand
|
|
Gotta hold myself away
|
By blocking out the light of day
|
I can't hold you the way that I used to.
|
A picture you truly are
|
All legs and suicide
|
And where there's no room for lies
|
She lies across the breeze
|
Calling to me
|
|
-----------------
|
Offshore
|
| Bell X1 |
