A touch of the tragic
May be conducive to magic
But it’s a rock in the shoe
Of ordinary life
Never wanted it to happen
Our branch bent before snapping
Saw reality as an anomaly
As our little tree struggled in the strife
Upon the polished bar-slab
Rests an old head who can’t pay his tab
While his pocket chimes, a music box
The last gift from his wife
Well, life may be short
I may be numb
My country is
Governed by a gun
Hey, maybe it’s simple
Maybe its not
I could not work
The way that you want
If there’s a god
If you’re a friend
If there’s a story
With an end
I won’t forget
When things were good
I’ll someday figure out
What I never understood
Plinking my night symphonies
The Detective wants his car keys
Originals and standards
No spotlight
Couldn’t learn how to quit
Months before you split
Should’ve held you harder
After that last flight
Your father offered a good job
And my pursuit’s run by the mob
Why not grow-up, own property
And bow out from a rigged fight?
The sound of the keys
Sends me, sends me
The sound of the keys
Sends me, sends me
It was a lot like your touch
Leaves me, leaves me
A lot like your touch
Leaves me, leaves me
A sanctuary from the snow
Where I know, I know
A sanctuary from the snow
Where I’m one with the melting
The sound of the keys
Was the only thing, the only thing
That noticed me
Noticed me
The sound of the keys
Noticed me
Before you
Before you
Before you
