Soapbox

False praise: as good as rope to wide-eyed youth tortured with hope
And all the ghosts that came before
All signed the walls of toilet tours
The inkwell's dry; the stairwell bleeds
Your restless hand's so hard to read
So let’s arrange a midnight meet
With a howling wolf and 5 punk beasts

We are all lonely, we're all strange
I'm half in love and half deranged
For everything I've ever thought has already been thought
Piano players paid in tips
At downtown bars they're turning tricks
A smile hid behind your lips
The city slang still makes me sick, sick, sick, sick

We found heaven in a blinking eye

The long dole queue down Denmark St.'s an irony not lost on me
I'll wear my fancy suit today
Just to claim my JSA
I'll be the hand that stills your wrist
Fresh lipstick, lost without a kiss
All painted Pepto-Bismol pink
You said I'd be fine
You're a liar

We found heaven in a blinking eye
We found heaven in a blinking eye

And now our future sure looks bleak
Love's not bespoke so let's not speak
I'm tired of waiting for my luck to change
We're still all lonely, we're still all strange
And you once said that all youth dies
That all youth dies with its hands tied
You kick in the front door while I pick the lock
Young love's screaming from a soapbox
Young love's screaming from a soapbox

Young love's screaming from a soapbox

We found heaven in a blinking eye
We found heaven in a blinking eye
We found heaven in a blinking eye
We found heaven in a blinking eye
We found heaven in a blinking eye