The Morning Of Lyrics

6. Grey Turning, Gold Turning Light

The gears inside me grind,
To a rhythm that makes these sparks fly in my mind.
I make myself beautiful with an absence of complexion. 
Cynical with hopes and dreams, 
My white flag is raised and in this scheme,
I see the start to a new direction.

Though failure is fleeting, 
Now the atmosphere's retreating

Come on baby dive right in, 
Lets sin with a little skin on skin, 
Oh I've been knocking all night 
But you still won't let me in. 
Come on baby dive right in, 
Lets sin with a little skin on skin,
Ill make you finish first 
And then I'll add your ego in.

They scarcely corrugate the surface 
With a wind of accidental burden, 
We all wear lips that are cold bruised 
Overused in tales of racy pasquinade

The wind might catch me,
Capture and dispatch me

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