| Torn apart in pieces
|
| These shreds what’s left a home
|
| The gathered nest a pillow
|
| I rest my head upon
|
| But when the fitful wind exhales
|
| To bluster and to blow
|
| The factions of my heart scatter
|
| Which one should I follow?
|
| Be the sunrise lost to sea
|
| Be the sunlight in my eyes
|
| Be the winter’s breath to heal
|
| The rot of springtime
|
| Torn down the middle
|
| I fold each fragment square
|
| Put them in a locket
|
| And wave a hand over
|
| This slutty magic has no master
|
| No one in control
|
| I pray for grace to rest in place
|
| Wherever I roll up
|
| Will I come to rest in peace
|
| Will I a be a channel of your love
|
| Will the breadcrumbs follow me
|
| I’ve eaten up all of the signs
|
| Be the sunrise lost to sea
|
| Be the sunlight in my eyes
|
| Be the winter’s breath to heal
|
| The rot of springtime
|
| Be the sunrise lost to sea
|
| Be the sunlight in my eyes
|
| Be the winter’s breath to heal
|
| The rot of springtime |