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