Mine to give away

At the end of every rainbow thereŽs an angry old man
HeŽll shoot you if you shake his old hand
HeŽll take it as a threat to that very old plan
which say that friendly gestures are banned

At the end of every smile thereŽs a hidden agenda
Why do people seldom say what they meen
The black velvet cloak is on their shoulders again
and their answers ainŽt always what they seem

They can not take my life `cause it is mine to give away
Just when my star is made on the brink of a brand new day
They can not take my life `cause it is mine to give away
Just when my star is made on the brink of a brand new day

At the end of every glance there is something to see
or someone in whose shoes youŽld like to be
But when youŽve stared for a while the worldŽs forgotten youŽre smile
and the tear in your eye is all they see

At the end of every kiss there is someone who bleed
a passion that is wasted on the dead
But the poet is made when that passion exceeds
the words which are better left unsaid