If I had to turn the other cheek
Hit me, your palms won’t speak –
The color shifts from white to fire
Your eyes lit, can’t stop to admire
Winter in the skyscraper woods
A dump for our white goods
I wasn’t listening – just letting go …
Some covers left to blow,
hiding from the terror blaze
Does this feeling flow both ways?
Is your heart still opened up?
Our life shown in a smitten closeup
Remember what the people said?
If you don’t fight, you’re already dead