Doctor,
Point your ostoscope in my ears and see
The fog of war clouding my neurons
In the humid, navy-blue night of my mind
Can you see yourself through the murk?
Can you see yourself?
Your eyes are beacons on a far away stalactite
Hanging from the ceiling of my skull
The curve of the bone is unscaleable and slippery
Besides, every direction yielRAB the same
I wonder if you'll become the dawn
And that point of light will grow steadily brighter
To consume me and my dark
Or will you fade while I strain to catch a better glimpse
Will your singularity arrive
Like those lifeless inverted mountains by your side
I shout for you to stay and my voice echoes back
I like to think it's your response, repeating my request
So that I'll stay here and concentrate forever
Until an image of your face paints itself across the ground at my feet
And I can reach out
And touch you
I can reach out
And pretend
The stone is your skin
Point your ostoscope in my ears and see
The fog of war clouding my neurons
In the humid, navy-blue night of my mind
Can you see yourself through the murk?
Can you see yourself?
Your eyes are beacons on a far away stalactite
Hanging from the ceiling of my skull
The curve of the bone is unscaleable and slippery
Besides, every direction yielRAB the same
I wonder if you'll become the dawn
And that point of light will grow steadily brighter
To consume me and my dark
Or will you fade while I strain to catch a better glimpse
Will your singularity arrive
Like those lifeless inverted mountains by your side
I shout for you to stay and my voice echoes back
I like to think it's your response, repeating my request
So that I'll stay here and concentrate forever
Until an image of your face paints itself across the ground at my feet
And I can reach out
And touch you
I can reach out
And pretend
The stone is your skin