Peter Murphy
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My Last Two Weeks

Peter Murphy


When I returned
You buried my last two weeks
My last two weeks
Of my new times
So it didn't seem like
A wasted mouthful
A wasted mouthful
Because of a trip
That was trapped inside you

I was trapped inside you
And always imagined
That I could
I always imagined
Imagined I would
Conjure you up
Conjure you up
So it didn't seem like
It didn't seem like

I was conditioned
I was conditioned about that
So it didn't seem like
A wasted mouthful
Am I untruthful
Am I untruthful
As a result of being
Maybe
Maybe it was too soon

The red rose
I liken it to the flicker of the pure
Fleeting moments
Precede our actions
Light that's not burning
Light that's not burning
No more lost sinking feeling
Tethered to your shoe
Tethered to you

We ask the controller
He sends us flames
Our lying bodies sleep
His whispered word says
Ah this is how
This is how it looks
From where we weep
Tethered to red rose
Tethered to your shoe
To the seven of cups
Tethered to you

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