Without the Prize

All things under the moon, they have my memories,
Of how I wolfed my dreams too soon. They belonged to another
but I will dance with you again
You’re afraid of going back to god, with those empty hands
But a flash of bright light came to wake me from my death
oh I will dance with you again
so we became the knives, my dear love, that would cut those lonely hearts
How angels spoke of us… you’d be ashamed
You were once my true brother — Well some things run in the blood.
Oh someone did me in, and it’s your fault, not of another
But I will dance with you again
How did you carry on, I wonder? How could you walk away from my grave
You saved your song for the boatman, of how Good had no brother
So now I turn to you again
We used to dance into the night my dear,
And how we danced into the night, I guess we’ll never know
while you renounced the dark with my death, I embraced your empty light
and the days turned to dust without my prize.
So we became the knives, my dear love, that would cut those lonely hearts
How angels spoke of us, you’d be ashamed
that you would dance with me again
that you would dance with me again
Oh you will dance with me again