Grey eyes, the lights are alive down at the harbour. Grey eyes, violence broke out down at the harbour. Turned off the lights, went down to the courtyard, broke the hinges at the gate. Walked around with snow to my ankles, felt it give beneath my weight. Beneath a cathedral of eyes. I hold no echo, no surprise. Well, where are your brothers? And where are your sisters? On the final day the reverend and the sparrow will have nothing to repent. On the final day music will blare out from your upstairs apartment. Celeste, the wires are showing, the wine is flowing, your eyes are glowing and I know that our movie will be more beautiful than anything ever seen. But now I feel so tired. So can we please just carry each other home?