My fingertips are tapping on a hefty stack of papers sitting
Stamped and sorted carefully, all ready to be sent
Sonnets, prose, and charming odes to ennui-laden scribbles so
Affected by the rain or lack thereof that fell today

I'm waiting patiently for June

I recall the sunlight waltzing in and giving way to halogen
Moons about the room, until the candles hit the switch
We were buzzed on martial Riesling and an ever-growing feeling
That we possibly were on to something worth another glass

So we poured it, and drank the bottle dry
And as the paid programming flickered, so did time

Blank checks made out to certainty, the memos bursting at the seams
With issues better left unspoken of and never seen
Almanacs with pencil marks on golden bands and travels far
To cities where our melodies can find a place to park

And we'll settle down for a day
Then we'll pack our things and be on our way
Even though we'd love to stay

Well if dreams are tiny trinkets on the dustiest of shelves
Where only youthful fingers ever stand a chance
I will raise you on my shoulders, lead you under, guide you over
'Til you get a hold that's firm enough for me to let you go

You'll struggle, and it might sting
But you know, my dear, what hurt can bring
While the critics sleep at night, we'll sing

Well I've got dreams too
But I'm not gonna share 'em with you

Lyrics submitted by username72

Martial Riesling song meanings
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