Maybe it was the mirror image of twilight and haze
Forgotten reminders of the equation come to light in a different phase
The old and the young gather in a square fit for the king
A burning door and mixed emotions tie the riddle with everything

You keep the candle burning
You keep the motor running
You keep emotion flowing through the blood inside my veins

You keep the auto driven
You keep the money that you're given
You keep the precious moments that no one else wanted to save
You threw it all away

Maybe those were shooting stars and clouds up on the moon
Sending mixed telepathic messages of things getting into tune
Counting on the people who have come in and out of your life
Don't take this to the bank if you dare to make things right

I see sitars and circus clowns on a train up on the hill
Like spirits long forgotten they remain gaunt and still
The cargo that you carry are the metaphors of life
Selecting time and memory that falls into the night

You keep the candle burning
You keep the motor running
You keep emotion flowing through the blood inside my veins

You keep the auto driven
You keep the money that you're given
You keep the precious moments that no one else wanted to save
You threw it all away

Precious moments are so few
Precious moments come and go with the blink of an eye

Maybe it was a mirror image of who you thought I could be
The broken reminders of a forgotten history
The women and children gather for this feast fit for the king
Broken reminders of a tragic history