Rolling as a Forgiver - Young Widows

Sink the desperate dogs

On the blind

Let them bitch and let them scratch

And let them relax

To the bitter tenderness

And to the sinners end

Stowed away under the seats

Of the thrones of Oblivion

You assume…

You assume the plane has crashed

And the lovers are on its way

You assume it won’t return

You assume too much

Pick the brains of the aging owls

Along the winding way down

Take them, drifters

Take them, delusions

And sink their doubts

To the belly of the Ohio River

And keep rowing as they’re forgiven

Stowed away under the seats

Of the thrones of oblivion

You assume

You assume the ship has wrecked

But lovers are on its way

You assume it won’t return

You assume too much

You assume too much