Bree Sharp Follow

It's six o'clock, the sun goes down
The hotel shudders with the sound
Of Grim and Lily's kiss good-bye
(“Oh, baby, not good-bye)
Tired of this life of crime
They make a plan for one last time.

We'll be on an island, far away,
All alone
We'll be on an island tucked away, my love
We're almost home.

A painting of a velvet clown
Hides enough to skip this town
If Grim gets there before his boss
He'll pull the final double cross
Lily flicks her cigarette
Her face is tight and white and wet
But Grim's so tired of his gun
Says, “Lil, I wanna see the ocean.”

We'll be on an island, far away,
All alone
We'll be on an island tucked away, my love
We're almost home.

Time is ticking, pulse is quickening
She's sick about the thickness of this plot
Her fingers knot, the car is hot
And it takes all the strength she's got
Not to fall apart when she hears the single shot

Lily bends to meet Grim's face
As they hold hands she whispers,
“We've come so far, we're almost home,
We've come so far.
Don't give this up
Don't give this up
Look in my eyes...
And you'll see an island, far away,
All alone
We'll be on an island tucked away, my love
We're almost home.”