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Dress me in scarlet |
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Ribbons and bows so everyone knows |
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I'm hiding a face |
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That hasn't the grace to go free. |
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Dress me in shadows |
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Sad April skies have opened my eyes |
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To the lie that I live |
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And given the river away |
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I'll change these clothes if I want to, and I do |
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I think that I've found out |
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What no-one's about to tell me |
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I think that I've found out |
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I don't wear scarlet well. |
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Waiting before me |
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Poets and painters may say; |
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"When will you stumble our way |
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Kick off your red shoes and fly now" |
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I'll die for their words if I want to, and I do. |
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Always before me |
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Poets and sages may say; |
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"We've been lamenting your fall |
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And carving it all into stone here |
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And skimming them into the river, just for you..." |
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I think that I've found out |
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What no-one's about to tell me |
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I think that I've found out |
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The place where angels fell from... |
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I think that I've found out |
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I don't wear scarlet well. |
