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I booked a room up on the 31st and climbed out, onto the window ledge |
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Walked past, out past the awning, a warm night in early September |
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And high above the city and all of its bad blood, the lights spreading out to the |
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Lake shore, what is the color, a yellowish decaying orange |
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It's like you dropped a chandelier in honey |
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And turned it on |
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Like a minor 6th, it's sad and hopeful mixed |
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That color near, it's amber dear and so it goes, on and on |
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I climbed back in the window and rode the glass elevator down |
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And walked out into the wild night, the lights oh what is the color |
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It's like you dropped a chandelier in honey |
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And turned it on |
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Like a minor 6th, it's sad and hopeful mixed |
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That color near, it's amber dear and so it goes, on and on |
