I wept out an email
Of truth and intent
So romantic and real
Of course, it was never sent
I bled a love letter
Awash with cliché
I folded and kissed it
Then of course, I threw it away
Death and life are in the power of the tongue
But now everybody's leaving so young
The plugs are pulled before the swan-song is sung
Leaving fragments, sketches, half-told tales
I started a story
I knew I'd never read
Now I'm lost in its leads
Is there any help you can send?
But now is not as late as you think
When you're still a mile or two from the brink
And you know procrastination's your kink
Just fill your lungs with life and wail
And oh my love, we've barely started
On our love, our dear departed
Ashes in a glass can't dance, so
Get your idle hands in the air
My diction is dreadful
And my plot overwrought
Darling my dialogues dire
And I illiterate, a lot
I carped a diem
It just left me a bruise
I grabbed a bull by the horn
And he shat on my shoes
But now is not as late as you think
When you're still a mile or two from the brink
And you know procrastination's your kink
So fill your lungs with life and wail
Death and life are in the power of the tongue
But now everybody's dying so young
Just walking off before the swan-song is sung
Leaving fragments, sketches, half-told tales
And oh my love, we've barely started
Here's to all our dear departed
Ashes in a glass can't dance, so
Get your idle hands in the air
All you layabout sun-vampires beware
When the curtain calls, you might not be there
You've got to get your idle hands in the air
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
