From The Lips

Doesn't matter how much time is spent staring through the steam rising off the tea, it still seems crazy. Is it the sweet, heady smell of an old addiction that get the hearts thumping? Or the temptation of a new addiction? It wouldn't take much to crumble and fall after four solitary seasons. Waking up to it and drifting with it into a restless slumber. Snigger and snicker at the absurd idea than runs around, clanging and banging off the skull. The next moment the tea has gone cold and it isn't so absurd anymore. And from your lips she may yet draw a Hallelujah...