Farse - When The Laughter Stops

Well we turned hands, pushed but whe could not break,
guess whats behing closed doors? Enigma remains.

I thought id turned the corner its like i jumped right back.

Climbing the steeple, out of reach i hear a slow dance,
before we used to bitch and now a fast dance,
a painting that goes through the edges of the framing and something you should of said,
a balancing act upon a ledge as we pull back,
tightropes across buildings, quiet roads, symptoms, fallings, cast off, calling adieu.