
Specters move like pilot flames / Their widows toast at St. Angel / Better times collide with now / The tears were warm, I feel them still / Their heat to vapor and disperse / And cloud our eyes with weary glaze
You raise your glass and may exclaim / "I'll put my hands on the truth by God" / But it's faster, love, than you and me / Faster than the speed of gravity / That's how it catches you from falling / And how it always slips away
Specters move like pilot flames / Their widows toast at St. Angel / Better times collide with now / And better times /
And better times are coming still
Um ressonante 2007!
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