Kiss me out of the bearded barley
Nightly beside the green, green grass
Swing, swing, swing the spinning step
You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress
Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So, kiss me
Kiss me down by the broken tree house
Swing me upon its hanging tire
Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat
We'll take the trail marked on your father's map
Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So, kiss me
Kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon's sparkling
So kiss me
So, kiss me
So kiss me
So kiss me

bruise my back, chew my chin. vik <3

break - alex g

alex g - fay

The Sound of the Smiths

This Charming Man (Single Version) [2008 Remaster] (Single Version; 2008 Remaster)

The radio hums, a low vibration,
Static blooms like ghosts in the wire.
Her voice drifts through the modulation,
Soft as smoke, pulling me higher.
I tune the dial, my hands are shaking,
Each sound feels almost alive.
Streetlights buzz with quiet breathing,
Their glow hums the shape of her name.
I follow the sound where the town is sleeping,
But every road just loops the same.
Something beneath the air is turning,
And I swear the signal sighs.
I can hear her say,
“Don’t trust the dawn, it lies.”
Every word cuts through the haze,
Like a warning from another sky.
I’m calling out through the dead frequency,
Where the stars hum low in sympathy.
Her voice is near but the world won’t bend,
Every message starts, then fails to send.
And I can’t tell if she’s ahead or behind,
Or just a memory trapped in the line.
The diner’s gone, just fog and power,
The wires hum, the ground hums back.
I trace her song through the old watchtower,
But the clock hands never track.
A shape in the glass moves when I don’t, 
It’s her smile, but it’s not her eyes.
Her voice cracks through the rain,
“Keep talking, I’m close this time.”
But the echo falls apart again,
Lost in the hum of the power lines.
I’m calling out through the dead frequency,
Where the stars hum low in sympathy.
Her voice is near but the world won’t bend,
Every message starts, then fails to send.
And I can’t tell if she’s ahead or behind,
Or just a memory trapped in the line.
Maybe the town is dreaming me,
Maybe I’m the ghost she tries to reach.
Maybe the signal’s not from her at all, 
Just the sound of something calling back from the breach.
I’m calling out through the dead frequency,
Where the stars hum low in sympathy.
Her voice is near but the world won’t bend,
Every message starts, then fails to send.
So I’ll keep the line alive tonight,
Through the static and electric light.
If she’s still out there, I’ll hear her sigh,
Through the dead frequency, where echoes lie.


Kiss Me

Sixpence None The Richer

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Rudy Beltrame

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