The tower clock is tickin' a relentless tone,
And there's still something missing from my memories tome.
A reluctant adventure to the porcelain throne,
Throwin' up on the lawn and stumbling through the town.
Well you made me think that I could be right ,
And I came to see what we could make of the night.
Now you've flushed me out of your system just fine,
But I can't do the same 'cause your name is my wine.
If I could tap into your train of thought,
I'd tie these frayed ends in a knot.
I'd wrap the doubt around a chord,
And accept what I cannot control.
The neutral between biased tides was seasoned to resolve divides.
Ideally where we'll stand our ground,
Progression takes the form of sound.
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
The tower clock is tickin' a relentless tone,
And there's still something missing from my memories tome.
A reluctant adventure to the porcelain throne,
Throwin' up on the lawn and stumbling through the town.
Well you made me think that I could be right ,
And I came to see what we could make of the night.
Now you've flushed me out of your system just fine,
But I can't do the same 'cause your name is my wine.
If I could tap into your train of thought,
I'd tie these frayed ends in a knot.
I'd wrap the doubt around a chord,
And accept what I cannot control.
The neutral between biased tides was seasoned to resolve divides.
Ideally where we'll stand our ground,
Progression takes the form of sound.
