Turnstiles

In a storm a little hurricane

Turning round and round I play

Like your eyes told me last night

Please don’t look at me this way

So I turned out the lights

And touched your face, you closed your eyes

And I turned on the night

I touched your face and you were mine

In a storm a little twister

Turning round and round the bend

Like my flesh and bones and lonely heart

Sgt. Pepper told to play

They swapped their lymph for wine

They wrote in blood but never dies

They changed their skin for life

They wrote in blood and they survived

Life in a colorful way

Can never be the same taking pictures black and white

Will never be the same if you turn it inside out

In a storm a little twister

Turning round and round I play

Like the grass fields on a landscape

Growing higher in the rain

The words no longer care

And disappeared inside your hair

My hands are full of ink

Your poems are no longer there

Life in a colorful way

Can never be the same taking pictures black and white

Will never be the same if you turn it inside out