Peter Koppes - Finest Hour lyrics

The scent of night on your fingertips

Touch of velvet on your rose petal lips

Scream of lives my senses afray

The music spoke what our words could not say

Don't break, in the finest hour

Don't break, in the finest hour

A Darklit drive on the plains of awry

Smooth and fruit from a sane god's eye

Secret longing passion, passing as we bathe

In the rule of silent wanderlust haze

Don't break, in the finest hour

Don't break, in the finest hour

Den of midnight, blood on the wire

We watch as sadness, fuels the moral pyre

The sea of gloom, wades out of the room

Dining on hope, we both licked the spoon

Don't break, in the finest hour

Don't break, in the finest hour