ON THE RAZOR'S EDGE
Bright Eyes, I saw you in the Dream.
In the far back corner of a noir bar,
An old piano is idling against the wall, like a torch.
11 years living on the razor’s edge…
I guess that’s what I get, for spending time with razors.
Bright Eyes, I saw you in the Dream.
In the far back corner of a noir bar,
An old piano is idling against the wall, like a torch.
11 years living on the razor’s edge…
I guess that’s what I get, for spending time with razors.