A Knight in Pining Ardour

In the past
Finish last
With an evening song
Night would pass
In the grass
With an evening song

Whisky tears
Vodka fears
In our stupid hearts
Wine would flow
Long ago
With our own false starts

Summer mournings sigh
Bold dark knights will try
In the past
Finish last
With an evening song
Night would pass
In the grass
With an evening song

Now the beer
Makes it clear
It's a hazy month
And the gin
Keeps us thin
In a crazy month

And we're split
Like a castle
In a personal war
And the trees
Chop us three
From our strongheld fort

Summer mournings sigh
Bold dark knights will try
In the past
Finish last
With an evening song
Night would pass
In the grass
With an evening song