Down a spiral stairway
Like a blackout memory
You prop up your work
Like a figure of straw
Keeping your ghosts from the garden
But is it red ripe or deadened skin?
Spiraling further in
Spiraling further in
Burn a candle to my skin
Turn the handle, let me in
I can not be your guardian anymore
Burn a candle to my skin
Turn the handle, let me in
I can not be your medicine anymore, anymore
I am a moment in time
When your eyes start to wander
And your head starts to spin
From the simplest task
Deciding what you will wear
Finding faults in a straight line
I have to remember to stop
Wringing out the same cloth
Burn a candle to my skin
Turn the handle, let me in
I can not be your guardian anymore
Burn a candle to my skin
Turn the handle, let me in
I can not be your medicine anymore, anymore
Burn a candle to my skin
Turn the handle, let me in
I can not be your guardian anymore
Burn a candle to my skin
Turn the handle, let me in
I can not be your medicine anymore, anymore
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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