Burned off in the heat of an afternoon
After six weeks straight soaked to the bone
I was trembling, wondering could that knob still turn
By this ash hand, or would the motion mask the room in a grey winter
Does the silence and the sill know: When will the wind blow?

When will it burn off?
When will it burn off?

Shaken, but couldn’t shake it off of me
Saw it, cloud of levity
You were the nightingale, I was the wretched rail that takes the train away
To chase elusive dollar on some breathless day

And then it burns off
Then it burns off
Why does it burn off

I must take a drink before I meet the man I am said to become
Intertia’s crocodile opens the door and you’re eclipsed by the sun



Burned (1) - Vundabar (9)


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