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I whisper the tongue like an old friend |
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I cherish my time here alone |
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I wait in the eyes of the passing nights, |
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To help me laugh brushfires again |
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By the swallows sleeve, i'm a new hand |
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Cutting out the shapes that burn me |
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I can touch the mouths of these child gods |
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And these true minds that hurt man |
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And the will will go up |
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To the crashing sails |
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And the crushing wails |
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Of my old pan |
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This wind screams while i'm asleep |
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And dreams that these white eyes |
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Will smile again |
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And the will will go up |
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To the crashing sails |
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And the crushing wails |
|
Of my old pan |
|
This wind screams while i'm asleep |
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And dreams that these white eyes |
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Will smile again |
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I take to the road like an old man |
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I cherish my time here alone |
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I process the lines of the passing lights |
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Losing myself, i change my plans |
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By the western walls, i'm a cursed hand |
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By the eastern seas, i'm hardly wrong |
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I can swing myself down from these trees |
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When i crave a glimpse of weary sands |
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I whisper the tongue like an old friend |
|
I cherish my time here alone |
|
I swing myself down from these trees |
|
To help me laugh brushfires again |
