South of the Painted Hall

Infinite moments of calm in our life
What a waste
Our defining moments fade away
It was easy to navigate the wind
When everything was cool
I’ll know I’m drunk when the truth’s spurting out
And our truth is disguised as a joke
Like the one about the dying ember
(Where the looks are worth a thousand rumours)
My voice can be disguised
But my face can’t lie
There’s no antidote to save me
When I’m drunk
My failures lie, not in falling down
But not getting up
All our great achievements put to better use
Like the wise man mistaken
But the fool, he can often be right
I know I’m drunk when the truth’s spurting out
And our truth is disguised as a joke
Like the one about the dying ember
(Where the looks are worth a thousand rumours)
My voice can be disguised
But my face can’t lie
There’s no antidote to save me
When I’m drunk
Yeah, my voice can be disguised
I’ll break off all contact
No signals, so I hope I don’t offend you
Even in summer the days are like winter so bland
Thoughts do not fear to abandon their
People they differ in life not in death
So the higher you climb
The longer you fall
My voice can be disguised
But my face can’t lie
There’s no signal I can find