| And we, we’re living dangerously
|
| All the cards are reversed for me
|
| And I’m holding two swords
|
| And I’m driving down Memorial Lane
|
| And I pause as I see your name
|
| But I’m only the fool
|
| And my weary heart is a flipped King of Cups
|
| And I emptied out, as he filled them up
|
| And I swore right there on my father’s eyes
|
| That I would never be compromised
|
| But in a dream, she came to me
|
| The archetype of femininity
|
| And she took my hand, walked me home
|
| And said, «Girl, you’re better on your own.»
|
| So, tell me where my moon lies
|
| Tell me, is there strength behind my eyes?
|
| Tell me where my moon lies
|
| Tell me, is there strength behind my eyes?
|
| And we, we’re living dangerously
|
| All the cards are reversed for me
|
| And I’m holding two swords |