Days of Lantana

Agatha and I go
Down to the courtyard slinging
Last year's Sundays in the river of time
Agatha and I go

Down to the citadel Sunday
Red church bells and the Moon on the rise
If you were to tell her
The days are numbered
I'd break the teeth in your fake ass smile

Maybe in a rare wind
Maybe in a month of Sundays
Maybe in a war I would still read the wrong signs
But I don't mind it

Being in the darkness baby
To be by your side
I would walk the Nile twice
Days of lantana

Each saint with a cross and a hammer
Radiation of the Cherenkov kind
So we go walking
Birds at the window talking
Jubilations in the faint June shine

Agatha and I go
Down to the citadel winning
Things that graciously came to mind
Gathering the day in

Some make arrangements
Some know the way and they just walk a straight line
Well, Curly's a baker's boy
Living for the harvest nights
Turns to me and says something like

The world only turns twice
Once for the laughter
Once for the memories after
All the rest is just kicking through the weather and the fines

So we go dancing
Twist turns and all things fancy
I blame the baker boy, that's what I had on my mind
You in the here now

Me in the far bar
I'd wait forever if they gave me enough time
Outside walking
Birds at the window talking
Iterations of the faint June shine