We used to be the shiny patrons
of a lovely empire going down
we let the jugglers and the lions
take care of our frowns
You held your spirits high
i laid my dreams down next to yours
till i was groped by burning fevers
and you ran out of cures.
So we never kissed good-night
beneath the auburn autumn skies
we never met the demons
that stood to be defied
and we never tried.
But we agreed there is still time
and we can surely water down the wine
still you should know
-although all my thoughts always come back to you-
i might be getting tired
somewhere down the line.
