You Own the Night
Robert Pollard
What's it like being all that?
Acrobat with wings down
Upside down
As if you own the Night
Beneath a cloak of trees
That run for cover
Over shadows, rootless
All that
A crown of light
In the darkest night
You own the night
A picking of chanteuse licks the flames
A flickering bossa nova
In slow motion
Spring forty seasons
Your focus out of reasons
You have to hide
All that
A crown of light
In the darkest night
You own the night
All that
A crown of light
In the darkest night
You own the night
You own the night
You own the night
You own the night