No thanks, close this window
One more pray before I'll go.
My list of laundry is growing right between the lines of hope and fear alike. On the news they're fighting, rocket ship takes flight; makes me wonder why. Do I paint my nails? Brush my hair? Or may be I'll stay in bed instead? Do I pop a pill? Climb downstairs and offer my sobriety on a plate? It's been strange since December. Or was it forever? I don't remember well. This city makes me tired - sycophants and liars - but I don't kiss and tell. Ghostly hues of yesteryears, whirling in my head somewhere; mummy and daddy standing there and a raven shadow hanging overhead. And it's Blue. Her name is Blue. She took the short way back. Don't know where she's gone on to but I sure know where she's at. Did you misconstrue? Did you take the ploughshare off my back? Tainted by the rose as I fall naked to the ground. One more prayer for you maybe I'll be gone. Car horns and neon lights bursting out tonight - as I think of you. Lipstick and serviette, Roland Barthes and cigarettes; there's nothing left to do. Take me where the love grass grows; oh take me to the start. Show me that you love me so and in the dead of night, I'll unmask. There's a blue door by the blue wall. Where a blue girl stands unfurled. Like a blue flag spread across the blue sky. There's a blue grave where I lie.