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At the End or the Beginning of Something

from First Winter New York by Din Strange Dresses

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lyrics

She was fiction

After returning to my every dark place
after squandering new beginnings
I will have this one fresh chance
before I cannot begin again

The issue so trite in scope
so magnifies your face
that I cannot fathom any continuing thing
but I feel I skirt something at such a rate
that I could render myself unable to feel
forget this, forever, for real

And it ran along my arm
and I wondered at the quivering line it made
my skin, it reeks of a lonely aroma
my reflection beneath the phantom blade

A first true cold

Here's to the hearts and the hands of the men
that come with the dust and are gone with the wind

credits

from First Winter New York, released February 7, 2014

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Din Strange Dresses Jersey City, New Jersey

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