The air hangs heavy
Over Telegraph Road.
Careful now -
Not all our thoughts
Are for the dead.
Your sigh bit through
My skin like
Barbed wire.
Who will kneel with us
At our stone
Altar of truth?
I am contained by you -
I am contained in you.
So we stand
Just north of rapture,
Just west of salvation,
And there is no line
I won\'t cross right over.
The air hangs heavy
Over Telegraph Road