Peter Adams
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When The Morning Dies

Peter Adams


I promise you my head's on straight
and looking forward.
Empires will fall in the sunken sky, so meet me in your room
and keep a light on inside.
I'm lost and gone in a dried up well
that looks up at a smile in the clouds
I climb the walls and comb the stars
and wish the dinosaurs would come crashing through my door

Like fire and hate
All in sunday suits, one for me and one for you
I will count the days. Wake me when the morning dies

And water falls into pots and pans crooked on the wood panelled wall
Our rest will come when the storm is done
But now the roof is leaking and the lights won't come on

Like fire and hate.

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