Goldheart Assembly. Last Decade. Zeneszám

The dying leaves
Can grip no more
The Eastern breeze
Will steal them all

Take care my love
It's all too soon
And all you need
Is space and room away from all my harmful ways

But you know I hate half the things I say

Your eyes are bubbles
Made of oil
And when they spill
They wreck these shores

My pulse has slowed
The atoms thin
But on the beach
The sea breathed in
and out and stole our hearts that day

But you know I'd go back but there's no way


Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh

This is the Last Decade
Let's not pretend we've changed
Come back home

See how the sun decays
Over our last parade
On our own

Soon there'll be sleep, no pain
This is our Last Decade
This is the Last Decade

Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh