What keeps you up at night?
Anticipation or the fright?
Is there still a chance you might
Never wanna turn away from
Last year's holy light?
Do you still wear those wings?
The silver ones that I bought you last year?
I suppose those are the sort of things
That get put away
When foreign friends start to appear
I don't think about you down in that booth
In the end when you tried to look so hard
I think about the mornings and your chipped tooth
But I don't care about the truth
If you don't care about my heart
I go down to Waterford alone
I'm taking back the places that were mine
The flea market where faces made of stone
Make it known
The empty space beside me in the line
But I don't think about you down in that window frame
All the snows got in and exposed that risky flame
I don't think about you so frivolous and small
Last year's holy light is too bright to cling to or view you
At all
What keeps you up at night?
Anticipation or the fright?
Is there still a chance you might
Never wanna turn away from
Last year's holy light?
'Cause if I met you tonight
I'd wanna turn
To try to do it over right
If it all started tonight
I'd wanna turn
To try to keep that holy light
I'd wanna turn