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Grey Matter

de Pan-Pot

Don’t know if it’s a blues or a waltz, I know is for you
The measures of three quarters bars, won’t give me the two (of us)
A blues while appeasing your woe, will be mourning my sorrow
A waltz would ache our senses, flow into a morrow

So kiss me, bringing me the stars again
Touch me, ruining over our plans
Light me, turning sparks into a flame

But even committing mistakes, I’m dancing beside you
I’m quietly trying to read the thoughts that would guide you
Dancing the evening away, like childs on a swing
Honestly dying to seed the smiles that you bring

Call me, tell me when you’re ready then
Ask me, judge me overwhelmingly
Take me, misleading my own conscience then
Mark me, making this a memory

Just letting my hands under yours, we both start to make it
Unique like charm over course, we’re urging to fake it
Leading your steps to reveal, I’m waiting my cue
I give you the honor to feel, the honor to choose
A waltz or a blues

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