Soapbox

False praise: as good as rope to wide-eyed youth tortured with hope

And all the ghosts that came before

All signed the walls of toilet tours

The inkwell's dry; the stairwell bleeds

Your restless hand's so hard to read

So let’s arrange a midnight meet

With a howling wolf and 5 punk beasts

We are all lonely, we're all strange

I'm half in love and half deranged

For everything I've ever thought has already been thought

Piano players paid in tips

At downtown bars they're turning tricks

A smile hid behind your lips

The city slang still makes me sick, sick, sick, sick

We found heaven in a blinking eye

The long dole queue down Denmark St.'s an irony not lost on me

I'll wear my fancy suit today

Just to claim my JSA

I'll be the hand that stills your wrist

Fresh lipstick, lost without a kiss

All painted Pepto-Bismol pink

You said I'd be fine

You're a liar

We found heaven in a blinking eye

We found heaven in a blinking eye

And now our future sure looks bleak

Love's not bespoke so let's not speak

I'm tired of waiting for my luck to change

We're still all lonely, we're still all strange

And you once said that all youth dies

That all youth dies with its hands tied

You kick in the front door while I pick the lock

Young love's screaming from a soapbox

Young love's screaming from a soapbox

Young love's screaming from a soapbox

We found heaven in a blinking eye

We found heaven in a blinking eye

We found heaven in a blinking eye

We found heaven in a blinking eye

We found heaven in a blinking eye