| Of all the churning random hearts
|
| Under the sun
|
| Eventually fading into night,
|
| These two are opening now
|
| As we lie, I touch you
|
| Under fuller light.
|
| Girl, if you’re a seascape
|
| I’m a listing boat, for the thing carries every hope.
|
| I invest in a single lie.
|
| The choice is yours to be loved
|
| Come away from an emptier boat.
|
| 'Cause when the dead moon
|
| Rises again
|
| We’ve no time to start a protocol
|
| To have us in.
|
| And when the dog slides
|
| Underneath a train,
|
| There’s no cry, no use to searching for
|
| What mutts remain.
|
| Throw all consequence aside
|
| The chill aspire, people set alight.
|
| Of all the intersecting lines in the sand
|
| I routed a labyrinth to your lap.
|
| I never used a map sliding off the land
|
| On an incidental tide,
|
| And along the way you know, they try
|
| They try.
|
| And we got sea legs
|
| And we’re off tonight
|
| Can I’ve that to which they’ve no right?
|
| You belong to a simpler time
|
| I’m a victim to the impact of these words,
|
| And this rhyme.
|
| 'Cause when that dead moon
|
| Rises again
|
| We’ve no time to start a protocol
|
| To have us in.
|
| And when the dog slides,
|
| Open the door, and where’d she go?
|
| There’s no time, no use to searching for
|
| The mutts remains.
|
| Throw consequence aside
|
| And the chill aspire, people set alight. |