Moon, you're always just out of sight
Solitude, you're not quiet enough, I fight
In the attic, I hear the weary pine's creak
(As it drinks in thunder, broken, no speak)
And I, always striving to match my own peak
Life, will there ever be enough streak?
And I, always striving to match my own peak
Life, will there ever be enough streak?
Foxes, in the dusk, silently sneak
As if all that's devoured is the dreams they shriek
To the right of the factory, the owl doth seek
To exist is but to drain out, slow, out of peak
Foxes, in the dusk, silently sneak
As if all that's devoured is the dreams they shriek
To the right of the factory, the owl doth seek
To exist is but to drain out, slow, out of peak
In the attic, I hear the weary pine's creak
(As it drinks in thunder, broken, no speak)
And I, always striving to match my own peak
Life, will there ever be enough streak?
I wish something would lift me, with each breath
To a place where I am absent, beyond reach
Those typewriters, vinyls, and planets, each
Spin under the devil's tongue, a silent screech
I wish something would lift me, with each breath
To a place where I am absent, beyond reach
Those typewriters, vinyls, and planets, each
Spin under the devil's tongue, a silent screech