When one line refuses to cover When his heart is already tied to another If it is traced from the cycle I'm in When the turn stops the next one begins One ten second relapse to meander Endanger to the point of a stinger Now it's stuck in my gut Is it my turn to keep these things shut? Sometimes you dream of people Older than your city in the back of your mind The pages tear away from the spine Then it's your turn to make our mind Five wings and the poacher has me Staring like you don't want to see We call it a blast from the past We can fly by to make it last The last dance to stop being in your conscious That's not true