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Description

"I can feel it on my tongue,
Brick and mortar as thick as scripture
Drawing lines in the sand and laying borders
as tall as towers.
I babel on until my voice is gone.

This hill I'll die on
is about 90 meters of bricks
Colored indigo, inscribed with my name,
and lined with cedar.
But the words fall flat like
cymbals crashing Like molars gnashing.

'Cause like constellations
a million years away,
Every good intention, every good intention
Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array.
Looking for the faces,
Looking for the shapes in the silence."

Earnest.

Description

"I can feel it on my tongue,
Brick and mortar as thick as scripture
Drawing lines in the sand and laying borders
as tall as towers.
I babel on until my voice is gone.

This hill I'll die on
is about 90 meters of bricks
Colored indigo, inscribed with my name,
and lined with cedar.
But the words fall flat like
cymbals crashing Like molars gnashing.

'Cause like constellations
a million years away,
Every good intention, every good intention
Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array.
Looking for the faces,
Looking for the shapes in the silence."

Earnest.