It drove away, in Corolla 68
And taint the air, with the scent of maple leaf
And crowds in rainbows, stand behind the yellow bar
It's Saturday night. I'll see you somehow
Clad in Panther's stripes.
Behind our temples they decree
Sworn under nonexistent piece of land they hold so dear
I see his eyes it glances with surprise and empathy
Downward, behind a point-blank range he fell.
What are the odds tonight I'll see your coat of paint?
Prettily draped against that glow you've held for a while
You giggled to lines that took me hours to prepare
It's Saturday night, they'll carve us a tomb, right in front your doorstep.
How many prints it takes to cover and to grieve
Silence drumming louder than the point of death release
I see your eyes they burn, unspoken outcry, disbelief
Upwards, an icy stare and reason fell
The joy and pain are amplified when you’re around
An age old gripe that somehow stayed for a longer time
A knock on the door as strong as the grip between our hands
These Saturday nights, hope it last for a while, Crow are here to stay