this is a culmination of our efforts

we're trading in sure bets for something better

she tried to speak her mind but you won't let her

have her moment at the microphone

but i don't think she's coming home tonight


innocence as good as information

she's folding paper doves out of the pages of revelations

but i can tell that train has left the station

conductor made his final call 

but i don't think she heard at all


we tend to wear the masks

of the men we fear as foes

and slowly turn the tango with their ghosts

but what of all the times

when we said we'd speak of hope

but slit the necks of those we loved the most


our time is fleeting 

and it's leaving us behind