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Tony Banks

Another Murder of a Day

  progressive rock  instrumental  rock  classical  progressive
550 3 часа назад

Текст песни Tony Banks - Another Murder of a Day

Tony Banks - Another Murder of a Day слова песни




She dreams china white behind her eyes of china blueHer future wrapped in velvet and her memories wrapped in warm cottonWoolAnd the coffee groundsAre burying the hours that she killedIn another murder of a dayHer patience starts to crumbleLike a rock that turns to sandAnd time breaks down to secondsWhen youre waiting, waiting on a man, waiting on a manShes checking out the doorway while shes checking out the guyWhose drunk imagination is climbing up the ladder of her silk clad thighAnd the cigarettesAre burning up the hours that she killedIn another murder of a dayHer patience starts to crumbleLike a rock that turns to sandAnd time breaks down to secondsWhen youre waiting, waiting on a man, waiting on a man, waiting on aManIt seems so long since yesterdayThe time goes by so slowWhen youre waiting on a man, waiting on a man to showShe shivers in a cold sweat that shes trying to ignore,As she wraps her shaking fingers round the loose change by the phone,She needs him more than shell admit and more than others need to know,She hopes the knots that tie her stomach are only butterflies,The time goes by so slowWhen youre waiting on a man, waiting on a man to show.She prays that no one pays attentionAs she punches out the call,As she fumbles with the numberThat the panic still doesnt show,She prays the lights stay green all nightShe prays the traffic doesnt slow,And that the knots that tie her stomach are only butterflies,Only butterflies, fly by every dayWhile youre waiting on a man, waiting on a man to showThere he stands behind the door,She reaches for her coat to go,And she wanders away in a dreamShe wanders away to a dreamShe threads her way home through the neon washed alleywaysShe flirts with the shadows and skirts round the victimsOf a night thatll sleep through the dayThat casts out its refugees and throws out its debris,She turns the key in a lock to a fairytale worldThat she guards with her ghosts of faithful familiarsWho attend to her shrine in the patchwork cathedralObserving the ritual with silent compassion and prayersOn the candlelit edges of a tightening circleShe arranges the photographs faded and yellowingThe memories left of her friends and her familyRespectfully turned to the wallShe turns up the sound on a second hand radioAnd drowns out the noise of the world that she lives inHer conscience her witness her life is her courtroomAnd the man she left waiting is waiting to murder a day

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