With questions in clues and short-lighted fuse
This last promenade before darker days
I'll dance down the stairs with bows in my hair
And nobody cares as we creep anywhere at all
And all our last attempts have played in present tense
And I foresee the ruin of all
Well I fit so finely in with the fitting in
The lucky winning losing streak
With profits and gains the last dying strains
Of moonlight are gone, so steady the dawn
And it is so strange to be so involved, where nothing's resolved
And I don t mind at all