| My recollection seems not to serve me anymore
|
| Quixotic and naive like so many times before
|
| And the world held in our hands was still so far away
|
| Like a childhood memory now passed away
|
| So as the wolves close in
|
| Destroy the ones we could have been
|
| A broken heart won’t pierce the veil
|
| And when the atmosphere is that same familiar fear
|
| Regress or overcome
|
| Unwieldily interface and assumed alacrity
|
| An unforeseen embrace which lingers interminably
|
| Uncaring words and gestures and she turns her face away
|
| Somewhere between comportment and regret
|
| So as the wolves close in
|
| Destroy the ones we could have been
|
| A broken heart won’t pierce the veil
|
| And when the atmosphere is that same familiar fear
|
| Regress or overcome
|
| And as we cling to our traditions
|
| Just what do we expect?
|
| Decide another course pursue forever
|
| Protect your precious heart from the undertow
|
| Unfettered and released from the irons of privilege
|
| The stars are burning hot this time |