The Show

I want to know you like I know myself,
from the morning to the evening bell
I burned my fingers on the stove.
I have problems letting go
Winter creeps in & settles on the bones
just summer passes on tip-toes
I made a fire, cast a spell, crossed my heart and wish you well.

Brothers told me that she's been asking of my whereabouts and when I go
She is wild as the garden thorn bush
so I do not touch her until I know how she grows
I lost the race; I'm waiting on the show

Punched the wind out from my sails long ago,
Every action has a motive and a goal
I make a fist of auburn leaves and rub my hand upon my knee

So I ask myself now, alone
Should I follow you or be gone



Credits
Writer(s): Ciaran Lavery
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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