In a power dive. In a slow burn. Over ancient fields. Over islands. . From the slope and the rise. Of the mainland. Unfamiliar shapes. . Through the atmosphere.
I was a cloud. I was a cloud looking down. Your frantic waving. Did not provoke feeling. But this little one. . Steady your wings now, sparrow. I remembered him.
When you were a child, you were a tomboy. And your mother laughed at the serious way. That you looked at her. And from your window at night. There were the star's little fires.
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.
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.
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?.
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.
I've been on the road too long. And I've been stuck inside a song. And you know our love. Has been through rougher weather. . But our passion's like a rose.
Another day your doing fine. Every things okay,. got all your ducks in line,. its alright, life is good,. you make it better. you make it better. you know you make It better.
There is a young man. Driving an old man's car. Down the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Where the treetops meet the stars. . There is a warm wind. Blowin' down the lost highway.
Young johnny. He really had a way. He did his homework on the schoolbus. And always got an a. And the girls like johnny. More than anyone except maybe elton john.