an hour glass acoustic sound
I am of all I cannot dream to be.
of names that swim the crying of a man
your noise so beautiful
leaving me lonesome still.
our romance through a dance
with kisses bright as sunlight through your eyes
that took my skies
and swam the seven oceans of my heart;
I am all of what is left
of summers crawling west
to clocks that ticked our holiday of sin
where the cancer of your voice
reeled me in
on hooks of armchair beards
that grew no choice
the dam that flickered light this rocking man
dying on a teardrop of your tear.
how many faces stranger in my home
where all I am
a stranger on the streets of bone and prayer.
the stream that takes me left side to your grave
that eats my soul of secondary skin
reels me in on a carpet burn of flint.
I know jesus loved the colour of your hair
at scarbourough fair
time our own
that took us home
when younger than the trees that brought us here
allowed my death of laughter
paint sunshine on your face.
let me die in your arms each second I awake.
take me home
your mountain home
one day I\'ll meet you there;