To the
doting girls by your side
Riding roughshod on your starless nights
To he who played concertos foul and black
Upon my heartstrings and never looked back
What became of those wild charms?
The deep fry of the tide?
The tug of the stars?
How it stirs me, how it stirs me now:
to think my fire burnt them out
Riding roughshod on your starless nights
To he who played concertos foul and black
Upon my heartstrings and never looked back
What became of those wild charms?
The deep fry of the tide?
The tug of the stars?
How it stirs me, how it stirs me now:
to think my fire burnt them out
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