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Robert Deeble
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Eucharist
Second round before the count, the gloves went off, we both went down.
Blindsided by the distance you were just in reach.
I watched the towers fall on your TV.
Stumbling Hands and burning eyes, we hold our own, then compromise
I just want to begin again, I just want to live in our own skin.
I think it's kind of strange, we get so close we get estranged.
We get so close, we get estranged.
Forty days and forty nights, Noah watched the river rise.
You flood again, I go for wood, all our years misunderstood.
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We get so close we get estranged.
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Walk into mass , the ceilings high with loftiness and lowered eyes.
The sound of choirs, a slow caress, covers wounds my heart has dressed.
A Lover's quarrel, all in duress, I fold my arms for Eucharist
We fell in love - we got enmeshed, bless me father I'm a mess....
Bless me father I'm a mess.
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