when the horses come to drag me away,
|
|
i won't fuss and fight i won't plead or beg.
|
and wherever they dump me i'll lay my head.
|
i'll sleep it off..i'll sleep alone
|
until the longing burrows a hole
|
straight through my sternum
|
to make its home.
|
i have this way of carrying on
|
such fruitless passions fallen from the vine
|
and the sweetest nectar turns to bitter wine.
|
but still we drink we drip the bottle dry.
|
we smash it apart and lick the sides..
|
recycled lovers expiring the night.
|
so when the horses come i won't scream or cry;
|
i've been dying for them to take my life.
|
and i'll sing of a new birth
|
a past unscratched.
|
so don't be sad, we should both rejoice
|
to the sound of those hooves
|
down that dark highway
|
in opposite directions.
|
wherever they dump us we'll stay.
|
recycled lovers get so carried away.
|
|
-----------------
|
Waiting on Wild Horses
|
| The Good Life |
