A boat named King Midas.
I just wrote this and the melody - i’ll probably record it and put up a demo tonight. xo
A taste of warm memories of a life left subsequently
like a bag on the roadside of all your precious things.
but there’s no time for stopping, stepping out or returning,
everything you love will eventually flee.
Now the cat’s got your tongue and your clothes are so dirty
they’re as torn as your memories and the scars on your hands
our house by the water that was immersed in our laughter
now bares all its walls and floorboards to the wind.
And the whispers on the wind will scare us down to our bones
and they’ll laugh out loud at the places that we’ve called our homes.
and everything we touch, will turn to dust
nothing will ever turn to gold.
so wrap your arms around them,
don’t ever let them go.
So we let the time pass like boats on the harbour,
never seeking what lies underneath.
Broken cities and highways, lovers’ rings and flowered archways,
her old buttoned blouse that she wore in her sleep.
But the heat’s on the march now, our fevers burn our eyebrows
and we don’t think as straight as our knives,
that are thrown through darkness into the backs of our lovers
that we leave wide open as we snore in our sleep.
And the whispers on the wind will scare us down to our bones
and they’ll laugh out loud at the places that we’ve called our homes.
and everything we touch, will turn to dust
nothing will ever turn to gold.
so wrap your arms around them,
don’t ever let them go.
