Thoughts above the mind of age
New with promise, thundering rage
Observing glass through thin intruding trees
May their sticks be swallowed and night to be seen
We are programmed for sensory
Near futures; progressing
Dark eyes will see
Short term memory; fading confusion
Arranging; there's no where else to turn
Granite beneath our feet, walk with us
And the sounds talk with us
How will we escape these permanent structures?
Is there a way, one way or the other?
They will still be flawed, only now in another
Dress me in ivory in a similar way
What desires move space; yet another mistake
With the moving hand gone, a veiled moon appears
A swelling landscape falling into grey
I can't promise you anything
Is there a way, one way or the other?
It's all flawed, only now darker