| Well I suppose, if it’s good it’s good.
|
| I won’t try to hold on.
|
| Too good to know if it’s truth or lies,
|
| either way it’s no surprise, I was holding onto.
|
| Tightly wound our words will spin.
|
| They dance and dart across our skins.
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| The starry night, the kiss, the scream — like words unable,
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| to take aback what once was hanging in the air like decoration,
|
| now feels like I’m choking on, a vicious cloud of smoke and smog.
|
| Well I suppose, if it’s good it’s good.
|
| I won’t try to hold on.
|
| Too good to know if it’s truth or lies,
|
| either way it’s no surprise, I was holding onto.
|
| Resting now, my flaming june,
|
| Aren’t you exhuasted from the shoot?
|
| You’ve worn our both your heels and so
|
| your heart begins to ache, I know.
|
| It’s not our age that tears at us,
|
| but rather time itself that cuffs me
|
| to these notes I sing for you.
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| I hope someday you’d hear it too.
|
| Well I suppose, if it’s good it’s good.
|
| I won’t try to hold on.
|
| Too good to know if it’s truth or lies,
|
| either way it’s no surprise, I was holding onto.
|
| I’m not coming down. |
| I have left the ground, oh flaming June.
|
| Well I suppose, if it’s good it’s good.
|
| I won’t try to hold on.
|
| Too good to know if it’s truth or lies,
|
| either way it’s no surprise, I was holding onto. |