The Wild Son
Finn Andrews
Your knives are sharp
When you put them in my heart
Though the truth, you'd say,
Is I like them there that way
From this hoodlum skin
I can always run to him
Undeserved, capsized
In the gutters of his eyes
Darling I need you far more than I say
None of my fears are as dear to me
And a great light dims
Every day I'm torn from him
And our stars align
In Elysian Fields at night
And the wheels, they turn
And the fallen heather burns At a loss and scared
In exile and unprepared
Darling I need you far more than I say
None of my fears are as dear to me
Blessed's the night
Blessed's the night
Blessed's the night
When none of my fears are as dear to me
None of my fears are as dear to me
None of my fears are as dear to me