Then right, you're at the time
you're running out your mouth,
I'm—calling you back to me.

I watch your hands are
slighter than the eye and
surely faster than me.

But I held your face
And it acquainted with the slow-
dance of a stranger heart,
Then you could know,
Yet, how could you know?

And hold the sun within the
feeling of the fall gets,
Oh, the delicate show.

And crowds cast a glance across the cards,
they ask to be made fools of.

But I held your face tonight,
Acquainted with the slow-
dance of a stranger heart
Then you could know,
Yet, how could you?

And how are you to know
is it when that begins
you crawl out of your skin
if only to survive,
becoming tired.

And when I can see
their glass eyes,
it's laid-in on
be waiting by the waterline.

And their paper hearts—it's suicide
to cross the line,
A lover for the burning palms
and breeze.

And when I recall the promises
Of each of those
rectangular faces—You know, you're so
original... original... original...
You say good—
...night.

Then right, you're at the time
you're running out your mouth
I'm— calling you
back to
me...