Late Light in D Minor

The city wears its silver like a scar;

I trace your name beneath the tired star;

The glass half full, the room half gone to shade;

And every promise softly starts to fade;

I hear your laughter in the radiator side;

A little ghost;

That will not say goodbye;

The night leans in with fingers made of vein;

And turns my quiet aches into refrain;

Oh, I keep feeling the late light;

Where the shadow dressing blue;

In the corners of my midnight;

Every road still leads to you;

I let the saxophone confess it;

What my mouth can't bring to do;

Though I keep you in the late light;

Like the pair I'm passing through;

Your coat still hangs where a winter left it there;

The faded moon caught breathless in the air;

I pour the hours slow into the glass;

And watch the wounded moment shimmer past;

The brushes sweep like footsteps down the hall;

As if your heart were answering my call;

But even dreams arrive with empty hands;

And leave me standing where the silence stands;

Oh, I keep you in the late night;

Where the shadows dress in blue;

In the corners of my midnight;

Every road still leads to you;

I let the saxophone confess it;

What my mouth can't bring to do;

Or keep you in a late light like a prayer on

Posse fruit;

Maybe love was never built to stay;

Maybe it was made to slip away;

Still I linger where the embers glow;

Talking to the darkened undertone;

If your name should cross this heart again;

Let it fall like soft November rain;

I keep you in the late night;

Where the shadows dress in blue;

In the corners of my midnight;

Every road still leads to you;

I let the saxophone confess it;

What my life can bring to do;

Oh, I need you in the late night;

Like the bread I'm passing through;

So I let the rhythm fade and bend;

And I call you by the shape of it;

In this dimly delicate room;

Love still blooms in minor tunes;

La-la-la-la, la-la-la;