Gone from the house to the snows. Like a wandering light. You send a last balloon. To the solemn light of the moon's eye. . Over the fields. And the arcs of the radial lines.
It's a triple sided, tried to ride it. Looked inside it, I can't find it. Living in a perfect world. . I touched the rocks, I touched the stones. It's the little things that break these bones.
My brother stands at the end of the line. My children at the breaking wall. The clouds is opening over the earth. The palms a dark and waving wall. And we call back to the old familiar life.
So there, you got me in your clutch again. So there, so there I love your touch. And that voodoo that you do so well. It's got me spinning around and round it.
West of the fields. Or out on the lam. Riding a calm between rages. Anchored in rust. Erasing the wilderness. Chasing an alien feeling. . Are you suddenly blind?.
One, two, three, four. I really feel it. . Sometimes I sit alone at nights. In a blind situation. So many things are running through my mind. In a blind situation.
I saw a flag wave. In the Heavens over me. I saw the Virgin. For a moment I believed. . You said you'd save me. But I don't want to be saved. I just want to be loved.
Yeah, your mother doesn't love you,. And your father doesn't care,. And your older sister's x-ing while your. Younger sister's getting in your hair. .
The night is like a black stone. But it ripples in the wind. And you are shaking like a new slave. In an ultraviolet sun. . Shiver at the night sky. From the ribbon of the road:.
Walk him up and down the corridors. Till his arms are tired. Till his lungs are tired. . Starve him of the air, the dimming light. Till his eyes are wide.
You were not the first to arrive. Will not be the last to survive. The pigs and the oxen we bound to the wheel. Turn it off, turn it off. . You are not the last of this house.
By shadowing. All the darkened fields. Of forgotten words. And civilian lives. . Violence. Through the changing guards. Through the grinding away. And their furious marching.
Come down from the lion's back. Call down to the endless sleepers. Give life to the dimming days. That run in an endless stream now. . In the black of the eye.
Oh, when you whistle down the wind. When you needle the dark with your mind. When you're firing volleys of words in an arc. When you're snuffing out all that's still alive.
A calm then, the roaring wall of the eye. As we sailed to the world from an insular life. From the boughs that had sheltered us all of our lives. From the sun's red blooming.
Shuddering brakes on the road to Jerusalem. It's so easy to drift when your eyes are so tired. And in the rush to the scene you are one of the millions.
the hollow light. is still on the fields. where the winter has warmed. and the snows have drained waway. and the hunter's cry. is still on the air. as the bullet flies home.
You treat this like a game. But it's my heart, and it's breaking. All because of you. The hour glass is running out. And you're still trying to fill it up.
Ooh. Heeeyyy. Yeah. . I quite like the way you smile. I quite like the way you say my name. Somewhat of a fascination. How you swirl a conversation. When we're apart.
Just wanna be in a magazine. The movie screen. Staring back at you. Something kinda magical. Incredible. You stayed away from the status quot. The Radio.