
Waiting to be brought about She turns before the grand reveal And every time she chickens out Those old familiar doubts she feels Songs about a life unlived Gifts she could not promise you She’d lie across the bed and give Oh but is that the song you would want to do? The greatness of this moon Pours its concrete over your bed And in the darkness of this room She kneads you and you’ll rise like bread Would you just lay back and rest With what little time you share that bed? Put your loving arm across her breast Half asleep and half in dread
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