Toscana - Chamber - L'Orchestre De Chambre Noir

I close gently in my hand

What I intend to keep

And let fall the rest

From basements backrooms and these cruel extremes

Take these thoughts from my head

In the morning I see clearly

That all is wrong

And I’m just another going down

The perfume from the cut

Makes me ache

Whiskey clouds thought

Drive reason away

Your love is as twisted as the world I see

And all your touch is apology

In the morning I see clearly

That all is wrong

And I’m just another going down