I'm So Happy I Could Just Cry Myself to Sleep or The Routes We Wander - The Falcon

Tonight, tonight, the captain’s dreams are bad

Searching for the tear and the distant shore

Amidst the sluts, the drifters and the thieves

He doesn’t dream of landing any more.

Drowning in these tumblers

Tumbles through these doors

Swinging out to cold cement

From sticky, hard tiled floors.

This is the route we wander, girl

Every god-damned day

So, swallow hard and wipe them dreams away.

Come to life, come to life, come to life… again.

Come to life, come to life, come to life… again.

The stove and the cold killed the men and the dogs

The last glimpse of sun then all the winter is gone

Chained at the ankles, bound at the wrists

Stuffed into mail-sacks and tossed into drifts.

Come to life, come to life, come to life… again.

Come to life, come to life, come to life… again.

The lunar eye is burning, boring through me, digging deep

Into my chest, into my head, into my days, into my sleep

These dreams, these days, don’t give me no peace

These dreams, these days, don’t give me no peace.

Come to life, come to life, come to life… again.

Come to life, come to life, come to life… again.