|
Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Parisean Floor I sat on a floor a Parisean floor the loneliest time of the year The unwelcome guest I watch her undress the loneliest time of the year Stoned on the couch having visions of art checkered eyes pink cones in snow Alone on the couch deciding to start off something but really dont know A picture of Jesus in a wrinkled cloth the room has turned bigger than it was before I wouldnt know what to do with it now maybe just keep a close eye on the door We drove thru the night the new pounding night branches grown out of my spine the beat wakes the dead the clouds around your head are secretly strangely aligned A picture of Jesus in a wrinkled cloth the owner of fires and hurricanes Has he come here to see what is left of me yet Has he come here to watch as I float down the drain What would you do If he loved me What would you do to me then What would you do if you loved me again Its too late to think Its to late to sleep to late for it all Im afraid The traffic below the sound fades and grows its all now that needs to be said ... |