Some Passe, Poor, Long Winded Sort
So we find ourselves facing a firing range alone
Don’t mind our faces changing to glass from bone
There are moments when we stare towards glarin’ eyes and moan
Now we stare towards stone
So flesh out catch and put in your bets on something that’s gone
My fortune, my friend, I will see you again and so
Gather your sticks, light some fire to a wick and throw
Then let us be and be gone
We seek some solemn sorts
Pourin’ all in by the quarts
But I ain’t just some passe, poor, long winded sort
We seek some solemn sorts
Pourin’ all in by the quarts
But I ain’t just some passe, poor, long winded sort