|
Lines of a tale |
|
Cut in the face of a crowd, sentenced no bail |
|
There in the night |
|
Deep in the back through the black beckons a life |
|
Time moving in a straight line |
|
But then at a whim a change in the wind |
|
A story begins in its mind |
|
For deep in her eyes beneath the lies of the dark |
|
Leaving marks, sparks |
|
She has been steeled |
|
Standing there looking so tight, taut and high heeled |
|
One of a kind |
|
The kind of a girl that only a dream could design |
|
Time seen through glasses of wine |
|
Never reveals the why or the when |
|
How this story will end as you find |
|
That deep in her eyes beneath the lies of the dark |
|
Leaving marks, sparks |
|
Come on, conjure up a reason for living |
|
Take me round and around and around and around and again |
|
Come on, do it in the name of living |
|
For if not tonight tell me when |
|
For if not tonight tell me when, yeah |
|
Hearts can confuse |
|
That messed up bundle of nerves that tends to bruise |
|
Still lay it bare |
|
It's better to bleed than to need and never have dared |
|
Chance, a move based on a glance |
|
A move based on no more than feel |
|
In this unreal circumstance |
|
For deep in her eyes beneath the lies of the dark |
|
Leaving marks, sparks |
