Firmament

The river talked all night
It's words fell lost, dreamlike on my ear
The stars scream of blight
Stricken by the cost of guiding us these years
We try to change our ways
To fly like wasps, stingers on the wind
The smell of burning sage
Your homemade wiccan cross, hot against my skin

Rainy day, psychogenic
Overgrown
Sweaty face, sympathetic
Monotone
Ready made dialectic
Dial tone
Every word pathogenic
Last days of Rome

Now I need some good news
A shard of light to help dissect the dusk
The pressure on the bruise
As vision turns to white, as cities turn to dust



Credits
Writer(s): Conor Hicks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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