Our Makeshift Gears Grind Gracefully

Take a slow deep breath my love

There aint nothing to be ashamed of

Disapproval, failing health, the never ending absence of wealth

I must admit I tug the rope

And oh the static, constant sound

The neon lights burning all the good out

We move too slow we don’t fit in

But our makeshift gears grinding gracefully

Don’t ever stop were stable and were steady

And we fear, we’ll be martyred then

For knowing that something is wrong

But we cant put our finger on it

A heart of gold is so hard to manage

I watch it all unwind, to watch it wind back up again

And I feel my body aching with the times

Like a shivering widow pulls the needle through

Stitching up these old truths

And I fear, we’ll be martyred then

For knowing that something is wrong

But we cant put our finger on it

A heart of gold is so hard to manage