There is a line in the sky drawn from me to you,
out to the horizon, out to the part where the better part it
calls out of the blue, clinging fast to threads of the world
there, everywhere, there is a strong hill calling fast as...as
As the angels weep, as the dead the stupidly blind call for
release.
As they witness what should and yet shall be.
How can I, how should I, be, there, always
when you wont, can't simply make it
shake it, bake it, can't always then or
what it simply seeks tries to be.
See it for it is in we, see
the waves glancing there, rolling off the topaz sea, see
tired then of trying oft to be thee, that
exhausted part, trying only to be.
Me.
You can't go, can go
(gotta go)
call it what is is
call
call it
call ME
just call it what
call
it what it needs to
be.
Just call,
it is
what it is
just another, your brother, it is
another...another...
call me then in a maybe far away
call me then there on, another day
Clinging fast to the fine lines, the thread
As the angles weep, as they scream out, cry then for release.
How can I, should I love, take a hand and heart
when you wont, can't make it, take it, shake it
see what it seeks to be.
See it for what it is in WE, see
the waves roil in the hard wine, an ocean, the sea
tired then of trying to be, exhausted
being me.
Screaming then, that
petty thing.
Down now, lost then to
another mind.
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