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The Moon Red Handed

Tell me, dear is there anything you'd like to hear?

One last song before we disappear?

Some broken hearted ballad built for two

By the way, it seems my notebooks have all been misplaced

Those scribbled poetries of yesterday

They've no more effect on me, those dead feelingsThe songs we don't sing are the hardest to hear

Words left unsaid, words we wish we'd forget

The guilt slips from our lips, confessions hidden behind eyelids

Would you look me in the eyeAnd tell me does the moon weep at dawn?

His brilliance exposed by a fierce and burning sunThe songs we don't sing we don't want to hear

Words left unsaid well, they're only words

We lick the guilt form our lips we make confessions from fertile hips

And never look them in the eye

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