Cascadia = No Father’s Daughter

Who has the fire,
Sweet Desire,
Has been tortured,
You are no fathers daughter,
No man has this much to offer,
Skin dark as sin,
Soft and when,
We took cover,
From the rain,
And the thunder,
Under stained glass we did slumber,
Till the sun came out to blind us,
Till we could not see anything,
So we knew at once we were meant to be,
And we heard the gods all rise and say,
The love we made is no lie.

And the 30 years of hopes and fears breathing down my neck,
Such a sad sad thing i set you free,
‘Cuz I can’t get you back.
You are fire, you are water.
When you dance, it is torture.
Maybe some night by the grey light of the dull moon we can meet.
Tangled, intwined, we have climbed, we have wrangled, shiny sequence sparked and spangled,
Our hearts iron cuffed and mangled,
We speant the night,
By the side of the water,
Passed the breakers and the markers,
We swam out into the darkness,
Till we could not feel,
The bottom.
Till we could not feel anything.
And the shoreline slowly drifted out fo reach,
As the moon shone down and the ocean heaved,
And darkness gave to light.

And with 30 years of hopes and fears breathing down my neck,
Such a sad sad thing i set you free,
‘Cuz I can’t get you back.
You are fire, you are water.
When you dance, it is torture.
Maybe some day on the bottom of the ocean we can meet.
Though we know if we do, we can never leave,
‘Cuz the moment that we turn away
The gods will say
The love we made
Was a lie.

by Crooked Fingers

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