You crack like glass on the southern side, above us the moon will haul a lonely tide. I fall, fall, through a filthy fog to meet you in the station by the hanging clock. The bells in the clock will chime a song for you, "As You Are Growing Older I Grow Older Too," the light from the carousel should send you home. You want to go but you won't.
You crackle like fire and I can see you're fitter, fiercer than you used to be. I fall, fall, through a bitter cold to meet you in the harbour by the tallest boat. The buoys in the dock will peal a song for you, "As You Are Growing Older I Grow Older Too," the face in the photograph would send me home but you won't.
And you're crying for yourself, confusing how you feel with how you felt. I keep the calendar clean so you can fall asleep. You fall upon the sword then fall on me.
We scatter like stars when the ruck is done, you paint me, you frame me, you hang me up. You fall, fall, over pines and dunes to rest, to rust between the bud and bloom. The birds on the wire sing a song for you, "As You Are Growing Older I Grow Older Too," the arc in the melody will send me home when you won't.
You're just crying for yourself, confusing how you feel with how you felt. I keep the calendar clean so you can fall asleep. You fall upon the sword then fall on me.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
