No Longer Last Spring
written by: Jak Locke
written by: Jak Locke
version 1:
from Already Fading On Some Horizon (February 5th 2003) (3:51)
When you're walkin down St. Philip Street surrounded by chalk outlines of the martyrs
And you find that you resemble more than one
Believe me, I relate, but that don't mean that I'll be waiting there to save you
When you see shadows are dead without the sun
When you've seen the darkest hour and you still can bear to hold hands with the timepiece
There's nothing I want more than that for you, but only in the cruelest way
When you're tired of your losin streak from rounds of seven card stud with the devil
Ante up again my friend, pretend you ever had a choice to play
Well you're drowning, it's clear and what's worse my dear
Is that you really think you can breathe under the tide
I told you before, I won't tell you no more
That the path to hell ain't narrow, and yours is twice as wide
And yes, my dear, I tire of you wailing all these pointless nothing sorrows
Some siren drifting lonesome from their home
And yes, my dear, there is a ladder out of every hole, even ones that you dig
But this time you'll have to build it all alone
All alone, all alone, all alone, all alone
And you find that you resemble more than one
Believe me, I relate, but that don't mean that I'll be waiting there to save you
When you see shadows are dead without the sun
When you've seen the darkest hour and you still can bear to hold hands with the timepiece
There's nothing I want more than that for you, but only in the cruelest way
When you're tired of your losin streak from rounds of seven card stud with the devil
Ante up again my friend, pretend you ever had a choice to play
Well you're drowning, it's clear and what's worse my dear
Is that you really think you can breathe under the tide
I told you before, I won't tell you no more
That the path to hell ain't narrow, and yours is twice as wide
And yes, my dear, I tire of you wailing all these pointless nothing sorrows
Some siren drifting lonesome from their home
And yes, my dear, there is a ladder out of every hole, even ones that you dig
But this time you'll have to build it all alone
All alone, all alone, all alone, all alone
version 2:
from The Wreckage, The Yield, And A Place I Can Crawl Up From (August 17th 2018) (3:33)
When you're walking down St. Philip Street surrounded by chalk outlines of the martyrs
And you find that you resemble more than one
Believe me, I'll relate, but that don't mean that I'll be waiting there to save you
When you see shadows are dead without the sun
When you've seen the darkest hour and you still can bear to hold hands with the timepiece
There's nothing I want more than that for you, but only in the cruelest way
When you're tired of your losing streak from rounds of seven card stud with the devil
Ante up again my friend, pretend you ever had a choice to play
Well you're drowning, it's clear and what's worse my dear
Is that you really think you can breathe under the tide
I told you before, I won't tell you no more
That the path to hell ain't narrow, and yours is twice as wide
Yes, my dear, I tire of you wailing all these pointless nothing sorrows
Some siren drifting lonesome from their home
And yes, my dear, there is a ladder out of every hole, even ones that you dig, yes there is
But this time you'll have to build it all alone
And you find that you resemble more than one
Believe me, I'll relate, but that don't mean that I'll be waiting there to save you
When you see shadows are dead without the sun
When you've seen the darkest hour and you still can bear to hold hands with the timepiece
There's nothing I want more than that for you, but only in the cruelest way
When you're tired of your losing streak from rounds of seven card stud with the devil
Ante up again my friend, pretend you ever had a choice to play
Well you're drowning, it's clear and what's worse my dear
Is that you really think you can breathe under the tide
I told you before, I won't tell you no more
That the path to hell ain't narrow, and yours is twice as wide
Yes, my dear, I tire of you wailing all these pointless nothing sorrows
Some siren drifting lonesome from their home
And yes, my dear, there is a ladder out of every hole, even ones that you dig, yes there is
But this time you'll have to build it all alone
earliest live performance: March 13th 2002