Goats on Fire

When the morning comes
You and I will run, like goats on fire
fire breathes from the blackened pyre
You in your white bridal veil
holding a molotov cocktail
We’d be together again
We’d share the pain
If we ever get a merciful epitaph
We were hiding in the shadows of a ruined old photograph
Here lies the ruins of the great placaters
the unintentional logic decimators
When tomorrow comes
We’ll see the midnight sun
We’ll see it together
And those reflections that last forever and ever
Me in my uncorrupted suit
Inside a house of ill repute
This could go anyway
But let’s go in anyway
If we ever get a merciful epitaph
We were hiding in the shadows of a ruined old photograph
Here lies the ruins of the great placaters
the unintentional logic decimators