The Moon Red Handed

Tell me, dear
Is there anything you'd like to hear?
One last song before we disappear?
Some broken hearted ballad
Built for two
By the way, it seems my notebooks have been misplaced
Those scribbled poetries of yesterday
They've no more effect on me
Those dead feelings

The songs we don't sing are the hardest to hear
Words left unsaid, words we wish we'd forget
The guilt slips from our lips
Confessions hidden behind eyelids
Would you look me in the eye and tell me
Does the moon weep at dawn?

His brilliance exposed
By a fierce and burning sun
The songs we don't sing we don't want to hear
Words left unsaid well, they're only words
We lick the guilt form our lips
We make confessions from fertile hips
And never look them in the eye