From high on your icy heels
You dance and slip away
In your filthy jacket
Dig with no hope, not an ounce
Of a tomorrow that could
Tell you everything's fine
In your busted sneakers
Your ready-to-wear clothes
That I'd like to carry you
Wind in your undone hair
You hid away somewhere else
I picture your lips greyed with resentment
From not having brushed mine
I dream you're no longer scared
And that we discover together
Way darker and sadder than my nights
The muffled, torrential rain
I throw myself into the Seine
I throw myself into the Seine
Metaphor of a castoff
Cause yeah love slips away, slips away
In your busted sneakers
Your ready-to-wear clothes
That I'd like to carry you
Wind in your undone hair
You bailed, split, flew off
I'm taking holy orders