A lipstick smeared raised glasses rim
A punt-less figure tipped within
flush with red, flush with red
their labels did not stick..
The spinning barefoot pirouette
that loses grace upon each twist
finest crystal, finest crystal
slaved to hold this in..
and still unseen is..
Stuck in a sequence that keeps on repeating
still stubbornly hiding a feeling..
and there’s no sign to..
to change the thinking that she’ll just drink anything
so long as its nice to the purse strings…
But what is she saving for?
When the last shell flys off overhead,
and this trench’s floor becomes our bed
lying silent, lying silent
speaking through our eyes..
and the mirrored view of memories,
of four hands on the piano keys
the jester portrays me…
now all I see is…
Her happiness slumped in the corner
he starts wrapping his arm around her..
and theres no sign to..
to change the thinking that she settles for anything
because loneliness brings only suffering..
At least she saves her coins…
I show my tell – its in my eyes
what you can’t see I can’t disguise
I’ve nothing left in which to sink
my spirit drains the more you drink
The empty heart – I always see..
you spend it’s love so recklessly
the less you hear the more I shout
my echo’s begin fading out…