The thrill here is quicker than you'd think,
the way in some jet-lagged bar they’re pouring the wine
from over their heads and then sit back down again.
Four times is once too much for luck
and that's how many times the clock struck.
I wandered home saying your name.
The arches here were built 'cause they don't fall;
the cathedrals to make you feel small,
that you might find your small soul.
But leave the preaching to the president.
The crowd cheers. His eyes get wet.
I'm full as it is
so don't feed me more.
You'll be having my head big as a birthday
'cause I left all my doubts on the airplane.
I didn't know I'm not in control.
I didn't know I'm not invincible.
Now maybe some things are better left unsaid
but if you wanted to test that out- well, yeah, I guess you couldn’t have said.
But there were nights in bars that I recall
your breath was courage laced with alcohol
and you leaned in and said,
"Make music with the chatter in here
and whisper all the notes in my ears."
I didn't know the weight of my tongue.
I didn't know what I'd done.
The lights here are softer than you’d think.
The dim-lit peacocks in the trees
Are hiding their eyes and their beauty, like me.
But if my eyes were on my back
I know what I’d be looking at
through every shade of browns and greens.
I didn’t know it was nothing new.
I didn’t know it was you.