Slowly as it spills on the bar, I can't help but wonder
Slowly as it gets a little rough, the voices are getting louder
Didn't mean for it to get cold and rusty
Didn't mean for it to get old and dusty
But if this is what it has become
What is there to be done
Besides the big ride
After the big fight?
What is there to salvage
When the sheet is blank?
What good is the adage
When the gibe has changed?
Or should we go back to where we were
To the room where our emotions stirred
To the tree where the leaves never falls
To spool back and tussle the squalls
But to be in two worlds at once
Isn't something that can be done
For you and I were never one
Never was the pair for the oldest rum
But what is this feeling that has never disappeared?
Why is this feeling the most stubborn I ever smeared?
-PRK-
