Read Time:31 Second
Spectres move like pilot flames
Their widows toast at St. Angel
Better times collide with now
The tears were warm, I feel them still
Their heat to vapor and disperse
And cloud our eyes with weary glaze
You raise your glass and may exclaim
Ill put my hands on the truth by God
But its faster, love, than you and me
Faster than the speed of gravity
Thats how it catches you from falling
And how it always slips away
Spectres move like pilot flames
Their widows toast at St. Angel
Better times collide with now
And better times
And better times are coming still