Blue like the jazz in your finger tips
the kind of somber tune that lingers on your breath
Like smoke stuck in the over grown hairs falling out of your ears
and the 5 o'clock shadow thats grown from black to grey
over these past few
years.
There was velvet on that monarchs back
she was drinking irish whiskey and had a hollowed out voice
The past is gone
Except for on your tongue
Dancing in your mouth
from the top of your spine
to the root of your brain
The future is in your sheets
I'll leave you alone
I'll let you sleep
But you know I'll sit at the foot of your bed
Just to see you wake
With diamonds in my eyes
and blue jazz in my blood.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 11:34 PM UTC
Blue like the jazz in your finger tips
the kind of somber tune that lingers on your breath
Like smoke stuck in the over grown hairs falling out of your ears
and the 5 o'clock shadow thats grown from black to grey
over these past few
years.
There was velvet on that monarchs back
she was drinking irish whiskey and had a hollowed out voice
The past is gone
Except for on your tongue
Dancing in your mouth
from the top of your spine
to the root of your brain
The future is in your sheets
I'll leave you alone
I'll let you sleep
But you know I'll sit at the foot of your bed
Just to see you wake
With diamonds in my eyes
and blue jazz in my blood.
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