Testo Last decade Goldheart Assembly

Last decade

The dying leaves can grip no more
The eastern breeze will steal them all,
Take care my love, it's all too soon
And all you need is space and room
Away from all my harmful ways,
But you know I hate half the things I say.

Your eyes are bubbles made of oil
And when they spill they'll wreck these shores.
My pulse has slowed, the air turns thin,
But on the beach the sea breathed in
And out and stole our hearts that day,
But you know I'd go back but there's no way.

This is the last decade,
Let's not pretend we've changed;
Come back home,
See how the sun decays
Over our last parade
On our own,
Soon there'll be sleep, no pain
This is our last decade,
This is the last decade.