Mirrors

The streetlight canvas is nearly filled
Washed with bodies among the mirrors
And movies to echo out the kill

A movement without a clear direction
Taking advice from nature's pill
It's just a moment bounced off the ceiling
Today can wait for another

A salty stream is no place for hiding
His touch is foreign to your cheek
Rusted plates beneath your fingers
Count to one and back down to me

A coin will cover the sun this evening
So grab your coat, it's nearly three
They're jumping fire through rings of cities
But who's watching cloud-trippers anyway?

The streetlight canvas is nearly filled
Washed with bodies among the mirrors
And movies to echo out the kill



Credits
Writer(s): James Kavanagh
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link