Simple sleeve designed by Kevin, printed by Sire Press.
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Lover, you've lost your luster looking for lockets you've lost long ago.
A diamond draped round your finger finds constant callous crushing heartache.
His gravestone greets familiar footsteps, now frozen in freshly fallen snowflakes.
So softly, your touch traces his name. Never to feel that fond embrace emerge again.
And she cries 'cause living a lie's lead to her lover's last breath. Boy, feelings of fire can kindle desire and drive to another's arms. Although the man may hold your hand and make you mournful of marriage. The man who truly once said, "I do" didn't deserve do doubt your loyalty.
Living like lovers is a long road. Rough patches perch perfectly overhead.
Once they're tempted to try to taste forbidden fruit, frayed fibers are tangled and tugged.
To her pocket pushes her hand, feels for her locket. Looks so longingly.
"Last call!" She's lost in her head. He's still haunting her home. The ghost grieves stasis and sad.
And she cries 'cause drinking didn't help heal her heart. The grieving ghosts gotta go. Great feelings of fire shift from stasis and snow, and drive to destruction of self. Some sort of man may still hold your hand, and matchbox your memories of marriage. The man who once truly said, "I do" wanted whatever to make you feel merry.