| In a dark star field skyline |
| The moon is incredibly bright |
| A giant dome hovers above celebrating masses |
| The sounds of rope tight and twisting |
| The veins of hope tight and twisting me |
| Someone shifts their body weight |
| This is where I lose my aim |
| Celebrating songs we bring in a lonely light |
| Confetti cast a million words |
| Raining on the stills we burn |
| Parachuting fearsome lads dropping towards the ground |
| The sounds of rope tight and twisting |
| From all the weight, work and stress now |
| The veins of hope tight and twisting me |
| The sounds of rope tight and twisting |
| From all the weight, work and stress now |
| The other way down from here |
| _ I drop into an open mass of festive _ |
| Instead you will wait for spring |
| Celebrate the song we bring |
| Raining down a millions words we’ll never hear |