Last Tide Memories

Is it the cold air?

Or just the weight we carry in the dark?

We are fading slow,

leaving no spark

Before the final curtain

drops (ahhhh)

Like autumn leaves on a frozen street

We dance on the edge of the bitter sweet The clock is

running out of sand But the tide still pulls

beneath the land

We built a glass house in the storm Pretending we could keep

it warm

Now the cracks are starting to show And we have nowhere left

to go

One last step before the fall (ooh-ooh)

Like autumn leaves on a frozen street We dance on the edge

of the bitter sweet The clock is running out of sand But

the tide still pulls

beneath the land

We fade away... Into

the

grey...