Casting all aside, except vagrancy
Living by the stars' brief ascendancy
Turning down the track that you thought
Would lead you back home
Candles in the window, refuting the night
Shutters in their mooring, then closing on sight
Rattling in the wind, unerringly, just like bones
And so it's been some hours since nobody came
The spectres and the horrors of a miserable rain
Taking with them anger, reflection and visions untold
A head is like a mansion, chock full of old rooms
Neglected stairways, landing, false portraits and tombs
No wonder that the spiders are spinning something larger than hay
For it's in the deepest corner, howling in sin
Loathing all ambition, refusing to begin
What argument has testily splintered, then thrown away
No cavalry is coming, no timely double play
No money in the sofa, no right to abstain
The doors are locked up tightly, behind which plangent voices... Again
What About Eddie - Relic Lyrics
What About Eddie - Relic Lyrics
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Casting all aside, except vagrancy
Living by the stars' brief ascendancy
Turning down the track that you thought
Would lead you back home
Candles in the window, refuting the night
Shutters in their mooring, then closing on sight
Rattling in the wind, unerringly, just like bones
And so it's been some hours since nobody came
The spectres and the horrors of a miserable rain
Taking with them anger, reflection and visions untold
A head is like a mansion, chock full of old rooms
Neglected stairways, landing, false portraits and tombs
No wonder that the spiders are spinning something larger than hay
For it's in the deepest corner, howling in sin
Loathing all ambition, refusing to begin
What argument has testily splintered, then thrown away
No cavalry is coming, no timely double play
No money in the sofa, no right to abstain
The doors are locked up tightly, behind which plangent voices... Again
Living by the stars' brief ascendancy
Turning down the track that you thought
Would lead you back home
Candles in the window, refuting the night
Shutters in their mooring, then closing on sight
Rattling in the wind, unerringly, just like bones
And so it's been some hours since nobody came
The spectres and the horrors of a miserable rain
Taking with them anger, reflection and visions untold
A head is like a mansion, chock full of old rooms
Neglected stairways, landing, false portraits and tombs
No wonder that the spiders are spinning something larger than hay
For it's in the deepest corner, howling in sin
Loathing all ambition, refusing to begin
What argument has testily splintered, then thrown away
No cavalry is coming, no timely double play
No money in the sofa, no right to abstain
The doors are locked up tightly, behind which plangent voices... Again
Writer: Richard Fowle, Tom Miller
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid