Our Makeshift Gears Grind Gracefully

Take a slow deep breath my love
There aint nothing to be ashamed of
Disapproval, failing health, the never ending absence of wealth
I must admit I tug the rope

And oh the static, constant sound
The neon lights burning all the good out
We move too slow we don’t fit in
But our makeshift gears grinding gracefully

Don’t ever stop were stable and were steady
And we fear, we’ll be martyred then
For knowing that something is wrong
But we cant put our finger on it
A heart of gold is so hard to manage

I watch it all unwind, to watch it wind back up again
And I feel my body aching with the times
Like a shivering widow pulls the needle through
Stitching up these old truths

And I fear, we’ll be martyred then
For knowing that something is wrong
But we cant put our finger on it
A heart of gold is so hard to manage