|
Hey, do you know where you're going? |
|
Have you noticed its snowing? |
|
Although it is June? |
|
They said your weakness was showing |
|
That your rapture was growing |
|
Just a little too soon |
|
But under these mountains, the nights and the shadows grow long |
|
The stars up above you feel wrong |
|
This is not your sky |
|
Pray to a strange constellation |
|
Thank God for your isolation |
|
This forever goodbye |
|
Dawn throws its light on the covers |
|
In this bed there's another |
|
Asleep at your side |
|
Gone, the embrace of a lover |
|
And the fire you discovered |
|
Already has died |
|
Her body recoils as your hand goes to touch her again |
|
She's a temple that won't let you in |
|
At her side you're alone |
|
On her back is the same constellation |
|
Confirming your alienation |
|
No, this flesh is not home |
|
You carry a vague conviction |
|
This life rose from an eviction |
|
Out of your homeland |
|
True but it's also addiction |
|
To this soft crucifixion |
|
Under these foreign hands |
|
And like all Christs before you, you kneel down beneath the night sky |
|
To look into your father's eyes |
|
And only feel lost |
|
Crucified to a strange constellation |
|
A new king awaits coronation |
|
But there will be no great revelation |
|
Your journey is your destination |
|
Discomfort could be your salvation |
|
Here under the Southern Cross |
