There is a story and it goes like this. There is a tower of brick and stone, raised up like a mountain. Its peak puts holes in the bottoms of clouds. A princess sits by the window at the top, and ... [+]
My God,
My tongue’s been
Flying away
Trying to fray
My days
My nights
My hopes
Keep slipping down my woes
Dripping down their concrete shelves
We’re walking in circles, now
Trying to sing our way out of this deaf war
We’re breaking our bones for vows
Bound to be broken by the hands that wove them
Our red world
Riddled with worms is
Bleeding out
Bloody fingertips brushing the hair
From our mouths
Our sculptures pour from our needs
We plead with
Heavy hearts and
Hungry eyes
Looking for lies to eat
We’re walking in circles, now
Trying to sing our way out of this deaf war
We’re breaking our bones for vows
Bound to be broken by the hands that hold them
My tongue’s been
Flying away
Trying to fray
My days
My nights
My hopes
Keep slipping down my woes
Dripping down their concrete shelves
We’re walking in circles, now
Trying to sing our way out of this deaf war
We’re breaking our bones for vows
Bound to be broken by the hands that wove them
Our red world
Riddled with worms is
Bleeding out
Bloody fingertips brushing the hair
From our mouths
Our sculptures pour from our needs
We plead with
Heavy hearts and
Hungry eyes
Looking for lies to eat
We’re walking in circles, now
Trying to sing our way out of this deaf war
We’re breaking our bones for vows
Bound to be broken by the hands that hold them