There will be many, many, many church bells,
I can promise you that much.
However, without your eruption, the alcove is filled with crude chirps,
Just as without the breeze, my doorstep is home to dead birds.
Everything I find, and all of the places that dissolved under my watch,
All of the men that bore their limbs into the roads,
I told them it was going to take this long.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
There will be many, many, many church bells,
I can promise you that much.
However, without your eruption, the alcove is filled with crude chirps,
Just as without the breeze, my doorstep is home to dead birds.
Everything I find, and all of the places that dissolved under my watch,
All of the men that bore their limbs into the roads,
I told them it was going to take this long.
don't ask me about meeting your maker; trust me, he doesn't want to see you right now.