Pyrite

Treadmill mice on the open field
Run to anything shiny and cold
No fear of the real fight
Only worry for lies retold
My instincts are bad, I don't follow them
Please don't take that as rude
And I am usually slow to adapt
If you need a response, that leaves two

Disappearing, might be gone
Brigadoon at the second dawn
I chased the fog over a dozen hills
To hold it to the sun against its will
Lost the race, won the fight
Victory dance in firelight
I hope I was right

Confidence of unwary prey
Hiding safe in the light
Marlon Perkins would be filming this if he was alive
New rules on the battleground
Might bring an end to the war
No mourning the death of your Golden Age
It was pyrite, you knew that before

Disappearing, might be gone
Brigadoon at the second dawn
I chased the fog over a dozen hills
To hold it to the sun against its will
Lost the race, won the fight
Victory dance in firelight
I hope I was right



Credits
Writer(s): Franklin Hoover
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link