Flies in amber, sand in soap
Brass trapped in the glass
Tongue-tied, I cut and run
Still, I want you to love me
Sleeping giant, Joan of Arc
From the garbage to the stars
We'll make new constellations
Still, I want you to love me
Still, I want you to love me
Through the vines and the street
Slants the light and the heat
As narrow as the archer’s window grows
In a century thrown to me
Through the vines from the streets
Slants the light and the heat
As narrow as the archer’s window grows
Still, I want you to love me
Still, I want you to love me