I walk, nine o'clock as you stroll on the Quay d'Orsay stretched out on the bench make me wait at the garden gate
but as I watch you recline serpent, siren and saint congregate inside and I look back on another time, colorblind colored by the weight of a sacred tongue but if our shirts don't fit and the jeans are ripped that's fine, that's alright and when our conscience clears I can murmur something trite laying by your side
light shifts, the curtain lifts you perform to great acclaim I rescind the invitation or orchestrate my shame
never had a name for myself all that in due time before you carve my heart out know I'm gonna let you every time I will let you every time
I was always waiting for you to go
'cause you never cared for me you feign towards the door and I'm down on my hands and knees
but as I watch you recline serpent, siren and saint congregate inside and I look back on another time, colorblind colored by the weight of a sacred tongue but if our shirts don't fit and the jeans are ripped that's fine, that's alright and when our conscience clears I can murmur something trite laying by your side