Nothing Glorious - Musée Mécanique

Are you still

Running scared

Scrolling fingers

Through your pretty hair?

What’s it like

To bear a crown

And have your powers

Be absorbed by a frown?

The shifting streets

Below our feet

The season’s rythyms

We could dance out every beat

With masks of pride

And arrogance

We scarcely knew

What we held in our hands

Now you’re asking what’s to grieve

Waiting for the golden seal

Was it fate, or was it sorrow

That spun you in this lonely wheel

Clear as skin

And nearly sin (?)

Gathering hours in this game

That you can’t win

So ride your shame

Sleep here still

Until the eyes of oblivion fill