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.