Head down in the rain
My walkman sings
Caught it in a paraphrase
The beast still stings

Feels like on the edge of an age
Where the scent of you still remains
In the valley, in the fey light
In the words that the record sings

She left a necklace and never retrieved it
I left a message meandering gently amidst our secrets
The clasp was broken, but you know me
I tеnd to keep the pieces
Shards in shoе boxes still sharp
Love and rockets, the shower sparks
White lightning in a mine shaft
It was black as a cold heart
Blacker than before
A glassy eyed Gordon Parks
Cyclops in it's maze afraid
I hear sticks sharpen in the dark
Surrounded by the bones of those I slain
But god knows my heart

In between the trees
My echo plays
Brushing on the strings
That connect and constrain

Feels like on the edge of an age
Where the scent of you still remains
In the solder, in the ashtray
In the old book we put away

The pieces-, the pieces
Tend to keep
Message mean
Message mean
The pieces-, the pieces
Tend to keep
Message mean
Message mean
As a cold heart
The pieces
Tend to keep
Message mean
Message mean
As a cold heart
The pieces
Tend to keep
Message mean