the stands
some weekend night
The card on the table have changed The ones who have left can't be traced, But all who are here can be trusted to not say a thing The doorways tonight hold the ones Who've taken to being undone And lust for the love of all the ones who won't mean a thing But it's alright It's so alright To be without The lost and founds Of some weekend night The last wheel to spin for to turn Has put down a blanket and yearns For the sigh that was spun from its wheelspinning trickle of light But it's alright It's so alright It's so alright 