I witnessed the fiery sky of Virginia traveling south
Twas the template of Valhalla without doubt
I picked an eastern star over the mountains
of Tennessee to follow home
Something for a penniless , young loser to
call his own
Back to Georgia to say goodbye
To ensure a widow that all was fine
He was a book already read
Now he was dead

The rhythmic , frigid breath of March
Where pathetic sun worshippers have no God
We are the center of the universe , traveling ships
Purveyors of elusive miracles that lie just beyond our fingertips
Our forefathers physicality becomes the dust collecting on windshields
The steaming earth from a fresh turned field
A beam of starlight where celestial life melds