we buried it in cortex and hid it with new crowds
but i guess these things dont melt away like snow
and the time capsule we covered is brought back to light and sound
and the thing we had left empty had become full

well it's all right, my darling, to kiss me in the afternoon
but the sun is getting low, boy, something's gotta happen soon.
because when the sun goes down the bottle comes around
faces blur and allegiances devide.

there's nothing like a memory held up to the light
sometimes it take time to see what it meant
and upon this discovery we stumbled hard that night
with lips pressed together by will and accident

well it's alright, my dear, to kiss me in the morning
as long as shadows stay behind our backs
but when they grow long, we fill our glasses far too tall
hearts stop and start in strange patterns, or not at all

yeah there's nothing like tired bodies pressed close to believe
that the life has not yet left for warmer limbs
but there are other things of value besides what we've come to see
in pairs of eyes grown dull like wax, and dimmed.