Twice an era comes a knock at my door,
Suspended in a window-crashing gaze of a poor spark of recognition.
It's the thrill that dies first, but,
I can think of something worse: The curse, the curse.
Light up gold was the color of something I was looking for.
Light up gold was the color of something I was looking for.

Steady was the pace kept in that tear-leaking sway,
Sifting like a miner through the conscience debris,
Hunched down, gleaning embers from a burning field
Trying to find something warm and real.

Cause light up gold was the color of something I was looking for.
Light up gold was the color of something I was looking for.

Yeah light up gold was the color of something I was looking for.
Light up gold was the color of something I was looking for.