I love your silver dressed dreams.
Those darlings, they call us all to look.
To peek and prod in an unforgiving time.
Hook your hate around my hand.
Thrown in the bag to drown.
Kittens, pebbles in your pocket.
You call this your pilgrimage.
A racing stumble through our great beyond.
But that was where I found you.
Heaped and tired, all covered in stars.
Can you walk the line?
Can you take some time to change?
Wrap this love around you heart, swallow and then re-arrange.
Your pilgrimage.
You deep mistake.
Your breaking through, my privilege.
Havoc and Consequence 