|
When the beat of your mind, |
|
Starts to sway out of time, |
|
Like the first song of the night. |
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You can say that you won't, |
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But you know oh oh you might. |
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And she's there in the hall, |
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With her praises and all, |
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Yet her hand swears not to tell. |
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Cost a lie to meet you, |
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Fare-the-well. |
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And it seems when you wake, |
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Every movement you make, |
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You can count on your rastful luck. |
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There's a sight or a song, |
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That kicks those feelings up. |
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Its the way you have carried, |
|
It over the years, |
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And the feeling its all too fast. |
|
You were pouring your heart, |
|
From glass to glass. |
