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Peter Adams
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When the Morning Dies
I promise you my head's on straight
and looking forward.
Empires will fall in the sunken sky, so meet me in your room
and keep a light on inside.
I'm lost and gone in a dried up well
that looks up at a smile in the clouds
I climb the walls and comb the stars
and wish the dinosaurs would come crashing through my door
Like fire and hate
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All in sunday suits, one for me and one for you
I will count the days. Wake me when the morning dies
And water falls into pots and pans crooked on the wood panelled wall
Our rest will come when the storm is done
But now the roof is leaking and the lights won't come on
Like fire and hate.
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