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if you go walking down amongst all the dreams of others |
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hands out wide, fingers brushing the silver leaves |
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walk those fields right through the night all the way to morning |
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leave you weaving nothing better than misery |
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leave you and your time, filled with woe and wine |
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drowning on the shoulder of a crying sky |
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night on night |
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now every moment seems its always already over |
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anything that ever shone has been worn to dim |
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and everyone is either faded or cremated or just damn jaded |
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like all their hopes and all the dreams that they lost them in |
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and through the dying light, I can see your eyes |
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see them filling up amongst the crying sky |
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night on night |
