|
You and I have become entwined |
|
Where the calcium meets the currents at the shoreline |
|
Watch you lace the light across the lines |
|
As you die, oil pours from the sky |
|
Engine breaks, engine blows |
|
Flicker and fade |
|
I stop, look to the skies with an open mouth |
|
The darkness fills my lungs |
|
This place is a wasteland, your wings are mine |
|
Your lights move through the ether |
|
Their machines, high mountains |
|
Swim in streams of tar |
|
I will hunt the one that burnt out the beacon |
|
There's nothing else for us to do here |
|
We'll cut the sun from its mooring |
|
We will cut the sun from its moorings |
|
And our hands blister as we watch it in the light streams |
|
And our hands blister as we watch it in the light streams |
|
Our hands blister as we watch it in the light streams |
|
And our hands blister as we watch it in the light streams |
