Ben Christophers - Transatlantic Shooting Stars lyrics

Fallen angel in the crowd Drags her heels over the noise Lays down at the roadside of regard A canyon in my broken mind Echos deep inside the vale There's dustcarts for the dead birds in the trees Trans-atlantic shooting stars over mainline Here they come suburban gods To bless desire Heaven hopes you find her here The raincatchers The devils blades There's karma for the misfits of our times Take this really you take my soul Take me down when you laugh I fall All this pity has broken me But my survival lies with me I'm going to love you as best as I can I'm going to hold you close when I tremble I'm going to love you as best as I can I'm going to see you rise I won't ever let you fall out of my senses Fall out of my own hands No I won't ever let you let you Will I find my way home?