I want a blanket named crash
and a pillow named home.
Save tears for the foreword,
I'll return before long.
Sleep-sing me, Glasscatter,
the metal twists sweet.
The headlight's no Source.
Let oil, as blood, seep.
I turned, not for nothing,
little bird in the road.
We took flight, singing softly,
so glad that it showed.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 1:27 AM UTC
I want a blanket named crash
and a pillow named home.
Save tears for the foreword,
I'll return before long.
Sleep-sing me, Glasscatter,
the metal twists sweet.
The headlight's no Source.
Let oil, as blood, seep.
I turned, not for nothing,
little bird in the road.
We took flight, singing softly,
so glad that it showed.
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