Giving Up The Ghost

i'm giving up the ghost

to you whom i have held the most

in my regard

with eyes set fixed upon foreign coasts

a mind betwixt 'tween idle boasts

of some reward

i have heard the call

we were lovers on the prowl

now nothing really matters much

nothing really mattered anyhow

i'm reaching for another glimpse

a wanton touch a final swing

from the dark

i'm torn between east and west

which you bring down with zealous jest

in one remark

and whatever you can bring yourself

to say three times is true

you want blood and i ain't got

a single drop that i can give to you

oh i know i was the talk of the town

when i cried 'cut me down'

i don't know, i've been told

love is quiet, love is pure

when a tired hand looks up

and finds companionship

shaken with surprise

and a tired mind resides

for fear of getting caught

in travel in disguise

there is nothing left to say

i will soon be on my way

i'm sorry for the things i've done

i'm sorry for the things i have not done

oh i know i was the talk of the town

when i cried 'cut me down'

i don't know, i've been told

love is quiet, love is pure