Slowly dripping candle wax
Shows us the time receding
Dreams of talks we’ll never have
About what we believe in
As naïve children we believed
There was meaning to what we achieved
Woah brother
We’d wait until the witching hours
To tell our secret stories
Of ships and sails and ceiling wax
And hopes for future glories
Whiskey loosened up our lips
But never enough for us to kiss
Woah lover
Years when by and tears were cried
Awaiting perfect timing
We’d fight and scream and make a scene
Our stars never aligning
Excitedly we would spar
But sometimes we’d go to far
Oh how to recover
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