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Tired Tales

from Breathing Room by Bucky Harris

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lyrics

There's split veins dripping red from the grapevines,
Bloody lips that love the taste, love to imbibe,
Nostalgia kisses the tongue and leads you home,
But it's a stumbling walk and those hurt the most.
All the memories, so dear to me,
they all blur with age and the decay of camaraderie,
These old storybooks, oh how they fade.

There's something oh so romantic about the nights spent steeped in red,
A kinship traced traced through eons of those who came , inspired and left.
But these blood red stains don't make a masterpiece.
These evenings lost in drink, I can no longer see them with that rosy tint.

There's split veins dripping red from the grapevines,
Bloody lips that love the taste, love to imbibe,
Nostalgia kisses the tongue and leads you home,
But it's a stumbling walk and those hurt the most.
All the memories, so dear to me,
they all blur with age and the decay of camaraderie,
These old storybooks, oh how they fade.

We grew up armed with such high hopes.
We bottled inspiration like our heroes.
But as the years went by, and these legends lost their shine,
We watched ourselves become ghosts.

There's blood, there's blood, there's blood on the page,
Stick a knife into the spine and you can watch it cascade.
There's blood, there's blood, there's blood on the page,
Is there time to rewrite the lines or is it too late?
There's blood, there's blood, there's blood on the page,
There's blood but we're dying to wash it clean.

There's split veins dripping red from the grapevines,
Bloody lips that love the taste, love to imbibe,
Nostalgia kisses the tongue and leads you home,
But it's a stumbling walk and those hurt the most.
All the memories, so dear to me,
they all blur with age and the decay of camaraderie,
These old storybooks, oh how they fade.

credits

from Breathing Room, released October 6, 2018

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Bucky Harris Montréal, Québec

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