Sworn Oath

I'm bound to you like the wretched winters we curse at most of the year Frozen into exile among the rural mutineers The chorus of the busking days provides more than enough Warmth to melt the frost from the surface of our adjoining love We packed our dreams inside a campervan Criss-crossing state lines, tracing a pentagram Caught in the rounds of party favours Inducing our manic behaviours I'm bound to you like the stick and poke tattoo on your thigh A sworn oath that I won't abandon what is mine The permanent souvenir reveals a timeline between now and then Whereby the fabric of our being is stitched by one everlasting thread And if you look back, don't you look back with the slightest bit of shame It wasn't long ago we celebrated the meaning we gave to our given names More than a bond, more than a band, more than a pact Despite our dysfunction, we somehow kept intact Like a fixture in my core I am bound to you forever more