It's the season of dust trailing old pick up trucks
Seashells washed ashore down by the docks
So baby pull on your blue jeans turn the radio loud
Don't wait for the hour to give birth to doubt.
In the peak harvest of snakebites and wasted hindsight
When trivial truths sit next to the taillights
When fenders of chrome they rattle and hum
All carved in the shape of freedom
...
So I'll be your lover now, brazen & bright
Like the flare of a match you struck in the night
Though what does a stray know 'bout holy & true
But I'll always come to your rescue.
Oh Lord won't you hear your children cry
Singing their praise & their hallelujahs
I have no more words to describe
An empty sky of hollow blue, yeah
So where is my lover, my firelight
The line on the edge of truth & rumour
We took our vows in the heart of the night
We were brazen & bright, when we were brazen & bright
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