The Mists of Niagara
What do I do when I get out of the bath and I’m not clean?
When my illness still carries my scent on its skin
My feelings are not the ones I have chosen
My mood can’t seem to open its wings
Where do you go when you are sinking into drowning?
Where are you now that you are floating on despair
I have a rope that could float on this ocean of saline
But do you want to be dragged back to here?
I’ve got Tequila and weed and a licence to use them
I’ve got a dream in my life and I don’t want to lose her
Is it possible that the sickly film that clings to us now
Is so soluble we could just disolve into the ether?
Could we just float here in the mists of Niagara?
The crashing just drowning the sounds in our heads
Could we just float here in the mists of Niagara?
And be shrouding each other from the powerful edge
