There is a rusty I Love You in this hollow voice of mine
Like an old record in the jukebox in the corner of the tavern
I dust the binds of time off my skin and I spin wrecklessly
For you.
The Irish whisky croons how relentlessly your heart sinks into my sound
But the sober croak of morning deems my heartstrings out of tune
Cracked, dry
Yet still I sing,
For you.
Still I spin
And spin
Until dizziness is all there is
Because you turned my hum into a rumble
And although you're not drunk enough to drown in my melodies
I'll compass on this needle
Until the stars stand still
Until the stars lie silent
Until our symphony is the only echo we know.