Flight, in the Oaks
All the luck in the world
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He’s burning like a fire on a dark street
A fall of feet falls short of me
And he’s tearing after youth and fresh meat
Because he needs, because he needs, because he
Needs
Oh you wintered well til vineyard’s bloom
You come around less and you leave too soon
There’s no more warmth in your red
Your grace is gone
For a fleeting frame, your eyes so glazed and green are all I see
And with your flight I felt the night return to me
For a fleeting frame, your eyes so glazed and green are all I see
And with your flight I felt the night return to me
And swallow you like I couldn’t do
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