we dismiss
the back roads
to ride these streets
unafraid
resigned to
scraping paint
from our bones
unashamed
no more the eye upon you
no more the simple man
desolation yes
hesitation no
desolation yes
hesitation no
as you might have guessed
all is never shown
desolation yes
hesitation no
and in my prayers
I dream alone
a silent speech
to deaf ears
if you want love
you must be love
but if you bleed love
you will die loved
no more the lie upon you
cast in stone and autumn shade
desolation yes
hesitation no
desolation yes
hesitation no
as you might have sensed
we won't make it home
desolation yes
hesitation no
but for the rites of spring
come to mean all things
a little taste
of what may come
a mere glimpse of what has gone
cause for the moment we are free
we seek to bind our release
too young to die
too rich to care
too fucked to swear that I was there
desolation yes
hesitation no
desolation yes
hesitation no
as you might have guessed
we won't make it home
desolation yes
hesitation no
Written by Billy Corgan
length- 3:55
BMI WORK # 5246440
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Billy Corgan: (10/30/99)
"We'd like to play a new song, it's about a week old"
[Innosence] may be the old title for this song.