Well, didn’t you look sharp with your boots when you met me on the path?
From two-tone to downtown Beirut but only halfway back
Stealing bits of wisdom from the shelf
Turned prisons into prisms of the self
And what do they know about the springtime or me and you?
Born in the midst of the long hot summer we lived through
Did they see you run for every rhyme?
Did we run for running out of time?
When even heroes have to die
No one lives forever, love, no one’s wise to try
We’re adding our own wisdom to the shelf
Stealing bits of paper, we had help
But working away, did we miss the passing of the time?
In your own flame you can wither though your passions still outshine
Did you read the writing on the wall?
Prophesying doom upon us all
But even heroes have to die
No one lives forever, love, no one’s wise to try
But hidden in the writing on the wall
Many are the beauties of the fall