My eyes walk the tightrope
In the shadows of a dancing flame
This feeling is fresh and fleeting
I know nothing will ever be the same
It's the pure and ***** black clean
It's climbing up a dying starbeam
It's the difference between a wish and a dream

(Back against the wall
Awaiting the crucifixion
Feeling the thunder and tasting the bolts
Listening to Band of Horses' diction)