Rose graves cast shadows on the bed where  you lie. Tried and melancholy, lost the twinkle in your eye. The sparrows have gone mute. Telescopes have all gone blind. So tell me, what's the use of boiling brains to find a dime?
So long, sorrow. I must say goodbye.
Until tomorrow, I just don't have the eye.
I'm a lonesome lover chasing delight.
Under covers feeling for a rise.
Girls in summer hues hooked on dope and pesticides saturate in the perfume of decaying quality time.
Daddy, if it's true that clocks are sweet and love is blind, then we're all living with our eyes in our chests and our tongues drooling time.
So long, sorrow. I must say goodbye.
Until tomorrow, I just don't have the eye.
I'm a lonesome lover chasing delight.
Under covers awaiting the rise.