Persephone and the lord of the dead
Do we all go down for a season
The creatures that we see
The images we collect
You can’t bring them into the spring sun
I don’t want to dance anymore with dark nostalgia
I don’t want to hold hands with the dreams of a dead man
I don’t want to dance anymore with dark nostalgia
I don’t want to hold hands with the dreams of a dead man
I dig into the folds of my mind
Scavenging the cracks sometimes for answers
But hope is not, as I have come to find
Something that you understand, but a trust and I
I don’t want to dance anymore with dark nostalgia
I don’t want to hold hands with the dreams of a dead man
I don’t want to dance anymore with dark nostalgia
I don’t want to hold hands with the dreams of a dead man
When I was young I thought I would become
Someone different than who I find myself to be
But in my weakness I’ve come to believe
Who I am is greater than the man of who I once dreamed
I don’t want to dance anymore with dark nostalgia
I don’t want to hold hands with the dreams of a dead man
I don’t want to dance anymore with dark nostalgia
I don’t want to hold hands with the dreams of a dead man
