| What drives us on?
|
| What drives us on?
|
| I left something of myself in you
|
| Fourscore, twenty, thirty
|
| In your body and in your flesh
|
| In your vault of skin
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| I was nothing for you
|
| But the shadow of another love
|
| That one day for you
|
| Would shift your skies to pastures blue
|
| Streaked with passing and loss
|
| Tortoise green in my eyes
|
| From the moss of my past, you arised
|
| And lightly then, I saw your smile
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| With ivory throat and ivory eyes
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| At night I catch you before I sleep
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| And if I died before I wake
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| I prayed that you my heart might keep
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| I cannot hold your tunneled eyes
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| Near my heart any longer
|
| All this love is nothing truly
|
| Mist of moons' breath, grit of evening
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| The grass was green, I now recall
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| Before my own particular fall
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| I saw we were both really masks over nothing
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| The moonlight sweeping over northern beaches
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| All the trees stand stripped
|
| Just silhouettes of memories
|
| At night I have started to dream of you
|
| Your eyes are wide and shot through with sea blue |