the telegraph gave us hope before was the silence and the panic it brought the sky was the blankest sheet we drew line upon it so our thoughts could meet
O Lord where are You now? Tears come from exhaustion and the feelings so numb. My mind is clear as blood My attempts to understand it are utterly in vain.
Through cables black and cold We carried our intentions to bridge and bring home Would it all be so clear if the lines were erased And the silence restored?*
Through days of black and white Thoughts of my suicide float freely deep inside Would it all be resolved if I could escape And ride to world’s edge?
Italics are from “My Ship Isn’t Pretty”by Kings of Convenience. [composed on February 4, 2014]