Silver‘s her name
when she’s lonesome.
Silver‘s her name
when she’s high,
and she goes and
loses herself
in everything.
Silver again
when she lies.
It’s harder at first
to miss the ones
you’ll soon forget –
characters so capable
of everything –
but as they go
one thing you still know:
There’s nothing wrong
with the old
definitions.
Take my hand now
we’ll see how it goes
and worry about the memories
tomorrow.
If the doorway is the station –
the drafts, the breathing of
departing trains –
I saw Silver
trace that border.
I saw Silver
fall like rain.
Take my hand now
we’ll see how it goes
and worry about the memories
tomorrow.
And I’m gonna love you
’til I forget
who I am.
Take my hand now
we’ll see how it goes
and worry about the memories
tomorrow.
Take my hand now
we’ll see how it goes
and worry about the memories
tomorrow.
© 2000.