You are the regret in my cigarette which makes mortality sweet
the rhythm of traffic lights dancing nights while my city sleeps
the step off a precipice when I'm in too deep
a plane crash our tickets in the trash
the waking echo of a dream
a whisper in the microphone in crowded rooms
a new appetite to keep me alive
a new limb to touch the world
a farther home which gives worth to the road...
and 9 am's collecting yesterday.
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 10:32 PM UTC
You are the regret in my cigarette which makes mortality sweet
the rhythm of traffic lights dancing nights while my city sleeps
the step off a precipice when I'm in too deep
a plane crash our tickets in the trash
the waking echo of a dream
a whisper in the microphone in crowded rooms
a new appetite to keep me alive
a new limb to touch the world
a farther home which gives worth to the road...
and 9 am's collecting yesterday.
