April from April by The Antoine Poncelet Band

"You drive me crazy," she said. "I've always wanted you, but you're so cold." Her reflection frozen in his eyes as he stares down at the mark on her breast.

"My head is burning. I can't say what I want to say. All of my doors are closed." But she knew this was a lie... like promises in April and an end to time... like promises of love and endless tiime.

She looked at him again like Mary Magdalene. She could wait forever like some poor saint. "I'll wash your hands and I'll kiss your feet. Just talk to me."


This boy can't hear her words anymore. They mean nothing to him now. He's got his own cross to bear and April love means nothing.

So she looked at him again like some Mary Magdalene. She could wait forever liike some poor saint. "I'll wash your hands and I will kiss your feet. Just talk to me. Don't give me metaphors or painted lies.. just talk to me."

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