Morning - Jill Tracy

Trick me with your pretty things

The halos in the sky are calling me again

You reign under a broken crown

Archangel of the underground

The quicksand in your eyes is taking me down

Could you be the one I sell my soul to

Could you be the one who falls from grace

Could you be the one you’ve got me falling apart again

Or is it falling into place?

Glass snakes on the windowpane

Tremble in the pouring rain

Come wrap your cloven foot upon my high-heeled throne

Captivate the sweet machine

Surrender to the offering

Ashes and alibis, we all go down

Could you be the one I sell my soul to

Could you be the one who falls from grace

Could you be the one you’ve got me falling apart again

Or is it falling into place?

Or is it falling into place?

Could you be the one

Could you be the one