Chris Bathgate Feather Jaw
It's the last lighted scene of a dreamy week
foggy, fearsome and dim
I twiddle my thumbs
at the rag I've become
and wait for the world within
And all I need, is the night as my stead
and a kiss to serve as my sheild
Cause comfort and ease on evenings like these
that turns all my poison to prose
Well its strange and divine
my hand on your spine,
and the secret that keeps
Me from sinning,
for each dreamy week
I'll jostle my drink and
Stumble to seraphim
Cause all I want is your feather jaw,
at rest on my shivering shoulder
Because its beautiful sights, that soften my eyes,
and my darling your one tonight
