Ode To The Blonde Dylan II

Lyrics

Character is what you are in the dark Over where a spark would otherwise fade. And now he thinks he can respect the perfect apple. Not just gunpowder gushing from a stallion's skull. Not no more. Bumping the empty end inch of a record Finding yourself Clocked Cleaned By mortality. Was it post when you sung it for the diehards Swung low in the glum shroud of club light? Was it post when you sung it in secrets? Or more casual oppression of the middle-class texture. Like ghostwriting the incombustible for the next new blonde Dylan. Or some daft caption perfect for your disrepair and headstone.