Late August, summer’s over, I’m not young anymore.
Young woman in pretty clothes shine like Stars.
That band with the Wild Angel singer is in town.
I keep my head down, don’t look anyone in the eye.
I sit, waiting for the show to start, to drag innocence
back into the light, into any hope for tomorrow.
If I hadn’t of taken The Devil’s hand, I might be okay.
I took his hand so they’d fear me, and fear is power.
So afraid, so broken, I took his hand, so they’d burn.
A moment, when I was with her, one moment before…..
A kiss that stayed treasured as my soul burned with hate.
A kiss that is as lost as the thoughts of Eden and ease.
Wild Angel, she comes on stage, so like that one girl,
that one kiss, that one moment before doomsday.
Her voice blows embers on the cold fire of innocence.
For just a second, I feel like I did before The Fire came.
I remember being a young man, full of light, like The Stars
all around me, who confound me, and I look away, in shame.
But those years were wasted, and they are not coming back.
Just a momentary flaring of the fire, before it dies again.
These Stars are not like me, they will not fall like me.
Wild Angel, I cast a prayer to you, from the dark, twice.
My tattered light caught in the roar of a better world.
A bit of love, what remains, that will shimmer in grey eyes.
The Stars shine bright. I am warm in their light.