After the party with wine in your hair
|
There's a shot in the dark
|
So you'll fall in despair
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And you've chipped your tooth
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So you whistle when you speak
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And there's tunes in your head
|
Till the end of the week
|
|
The feast in your hair is up to a swing
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But whoever you touch
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You don't feel anything
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So you brush off the cobwebs
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That seal you up
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To get past the part
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With the crack in your cup
|
|
Farewell Saturday, love tomorrow
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Always the next day
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For to find sanctuary
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For there's unkept promises
|
Crimes and jealousies
|
Always the next day
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For to find sanctuary
|
|
Then a slice of the silence
|
Remains on the bed
|
As the hue of the sun
|
Whispers heat to the dead
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And the glow won't wash off
|
When you're already gone
|
And you lock all the doors
|
Where the silence just shone
|
A sip of green poison that jades your blood
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Till the blue of your veins
|
Turns as brown as the mud
|
The continental shift in your
|
Earthquake heart
|
It isn't a cure
|
But at least it's a start
|
|
Sanctuary
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Sanctuary
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|
-----------------
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Sanctuary
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| Marty Willson-Piper |
