Trouble - The Ballroom Thieves

Trouble

You found me again

I struggled some to stay away

But I fit so nicely in your hand

Fight through the lie

There’s no time to sharpen claws

Or shake my wings in skittish flight

Trouble takes on dull and doubtful legs

Says have the moon and have the sun and sip politely from the dregs

Although you’ll use my feathers for a bed

I’d rather sleep in hell than back in boring death

I’m terrified of my heart

Its hunger for whatever it may want

The way it stops and starts

Yeah it may saunter into war

Trouble doesn’t keep a civil score

You use but words to speak to me

And for you I am pellucid as a shadow seaI

Trouble, I will run with you again

I’ll take the moon I’ll take the sun wade forever in the dregs

I’ll sail my beating heart away from shore

Shall it not return, I’ll know that trouble stole the oar