MUSIC FOR SALE

Verse 1

All things have settled
in their place,
and I no longer crave
their presence, nor their gaze.

Tired from the road,
I brush my features, worn and frail,
and find myself at nought
where the journey's path does trail.

Chorus

And autumn's chill is in my bones:
dark streets lie empty, still and grey;
heavy air that clings like a moan.

And autumn's misty veil is on my soul:
foggy mornings,
darkness that makes me whole.

Verse 2

I put my hands in pockets deep,
paste a smile on my real face,
cleaning away a tear's dark keep,
and step out into the vast expanse.

That's how they want me to be,
a mask that fits with ease,
no choice to make, no art to see;
though I never took the stage with expertise.

Chorus

And autumn's chill is in my bones:
dark streets lie empty, still and grey;
heavy air that clings like a moan.

And autumn's misty veil is on my soul:
foggy mornings,
darkness that makes me whole.

Outro Chorus

And autumn's chill is in my bones:
dark streets lie empty, still and grey;
heavy air that clings like a moan.

And autumn's misty veil is on my soul:
foggy mornings,
darkness that makes me whole.