A touch of the tragic

May be conducive to magic

But it’s a rock in the shoe

Of ordinary life

Never wanted it to happen

Our branch bent before snapping

Saw reality as an anomaly

As our little tree struggled in the strife

Upon the polished bar-slab

Rests an old head who can’t pay his tab

While his pocket chimes, a music box

The last gift from his wife

Well, life may be short

I may be numb

My country is

Governed by a gun

Hey, maybe it’s simple

Maybe its not

I could not work

The way that you want

If there’s a god

If you’re a friend

If there’s a story

With an end

I won’t forget

When things were good

I’ll someday figure out

What I never understood

Plinking my night symphonies

The Detective wants his car keys

Originals and standards

No spotlight

Couldn’t learn how to quit

Months before you split

Should’ve held you harder

After that last flight

Your father offered a good job

And my pursuit’s run by the mob

Why not grow-up, own property

And bow out from a rigged fight?

The sound of the keys

Sends me, sends me

The sound of the keys

Sends me, sends me

It was a lot like your touch

Leaves me, leaves me

A lot like your touch

Upon me, upon me

A sanctuary from the snow

Where I know, I know

A sanctuary from the snow

From the melting

The sound of the keys

Was the only thing, the only thing

That noticed me

Noticed me

The sound of the keys

Noticed me

Before you

Before you

Before you