Lyrics Winter in the South - A. Savage

Winter in the South

Wind-woke was the torch that summoned me unto your porch
'Til into your parlor I give
How can you still smile?
There you are, it’s been a while
Back to the tower where you live
Can I speak to you, like I’ve always wanted to
With every eye on my face?
Where you find my worth, waking snakes out of the earth
Home is an hour not a place
I’m a screen doors wire
I am drying flowers
I’m a postcard read, filed and fed to it’s place in the drawer
Winter in the south, Autumn from a northern mouth
Acts like the cruelest month did
When I last was here, happy to return my dear
Talk for a while and let’s sit
Ample was the floor for sleeping in the clothes we wore
That night we called it a bed
With no fear of shame
The nest I could accommodate the dead the lie between us
I’m a bowing eye
I’m a pilgrim’s mouth
I’m a toy you broke speaking slow as it sentenced the end
You’d dreamt that I died, my face on another’s hide
Stretched like the string on your door
Feel my pulse and tap that beat which my blood marches at and
Claim every ounce of it yours
Two weeks on the lam, now I’m back at home again
Nowhere to run but the page
Often goes the sound, of a hearts uncertain howl
Clanging the bars of its cage
I’m a hotel shower
I’m a tempted saint
I’m a distant hound making sound as it dreams on the floor
Talented with words, but am I more than pretty verse?
Read by a voice in your head
Am I on your mind?
After all has bloomed and dried
Milling around like a scent?
Now I hold the torch, now the invitation’s yours
Glowing on fire like a cake
I’ll be thirty-one next month and I only want
You by my side as I wake
I am no wrong turn
Is there such a thing?
There are only turns that we take at one time you took me