Daggers - Banquets

I ran with daggers, in the Brunswick sun

Considered weightless, concerned by some

To be left alone here, like it passed me by

Grew old before my music died

I wanted some.

You want it all

With hole in hands, come back to me

You left with my youth and the finer things

Stay young, stay loud.

Stay brash and bold

If I could spread myself through wide-open spaces

Convince myself my time had never been a wasted

Find myself asleep in dirty, dirty basements

With a sense of charm, It would be okay

With hole in hands, come back to me

You left with my youth and the finer things

Stay young, stay loud.

Stay brash and bold

Not looking back, on what couldn’t be

You left with my youth and abandoned me

Stay young, stay loud.

Stay brash and bold