Start in the rain
Open the gates
Grandstand awaits
I am a flame
Too quick to light but
Not burning right or
Providing light
Coldest of white
And the audience is loud now, but there’s no sound
Words well up in my mouth now, but there’s no sound
And the air supply is low now, so i go out, i just blow out
Start in the more than hyperbolic short-hand
Get me to those warm and incandescent days
Body gets cold so body gets told to
Flatten all the folds in the time it threw to waste
And become a fire, or just a wire
Providing heat and power to incandescent days
Did the songbird ever answer if a call wasn’t tried?
Or did it spread wings wide and take flight
If no wind was provided?
Create colors from our habits
What we all want
And let them paint you like a canvas
What we all want
To get lost in the romantic
What we all want
What we all want