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THE FALCON >> Merchandise Links
THE FALCON
Tonight, tonight, the captain's dreams are bad Searching for the tear and the distant shore Amidst the sluts, the drifters and the thieves He doesn't dream of landing any more. Drowning in these tumblers Tumbles through these doors Swinging out to cold cement From sticky, hard tiled floors. This is the route we wander, girl Every god-damned day So, swallow hard and wipe them dreams away. Come to life, come to life, come to life... again. Come to life, come to life, come to life... again. The stove and the cold killed the men and the dogs The last glimpse of sun then all the winter is gone Chained at the ankles, bound at the wrists Stuffed into mail-sacks and tossed into drifts. Come to life, come to life, come to life... again. Come to life, come to life, come to life... again. The lunar eye is burning, boring through me, digging deep Into my chest, into my head, into my days, into my sleep These dreams, these days, don't give me no peace These dreams, these days, don't give me no peace. Come to life, come to life, come to life... again. Come to life, come to life, come to life... again.
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