Red Moon Photographs

Every window is a portrait of a year we burned away

In the flooded streets,

the water wears your name

Old photographs are dissolving in the gray

And the rain is singing secrets

we can never say (ahhhh)

Under the crimson moon we spin our heavy spell

Transforming the damage into gold

Let the thunder catch us where we fell

In the only promise we could hold (oh-oh-oh)

Every streetlamp is a sentinel of everything we lost Looking down on

where the broken halos lie

We paid the price but we never counted up the cost

Now we're dancing as the hours drift on by

Under the crimson moon we spin our heavy spell

Transforming the damage into gold

Let the thunder catch us where we fell

In the only promise we could hold

We turn the pain into a holy fire

We raise the glass to the falling sky (higher,

higher)

Under the crimson moon...

(we spin

the spell)