truth

There burns a wooden boat upon a silver lake
And inside suffering eternal
And tomorrow right before the quake
A newborn turns ephemeral
A desperate child’s imaginings
Has ruined the world for us
And if there is a solemn thing
Its made its final thrust
We’ve cut it short of all that’s good
And left it all the earth
And through every neighborhood
Is sighted a black hearse
Our outlook changed
And so did all the scheming
We left our boats
And left our Noah dreaming
Please hold us to this promise of a higher self
Protect us from our stolen glory
We’re all reduced to merely stealth
And a red book of ageless stories