I followed the moon last night
it led me back home
to a small town of wanders
and warm tinted company

the sun followed me this morn
the radio told me what it looked like
before I could see anything
just how high up
do i have to be to see it

then I saw
orange
against
the blue

a singing flame
and a living stone
greet the air
and they sing themselves
to a drunken slumber

the moon has shrunk
there's no sunrise in the morning
the radio doesn't describe anything
and the flame died at first gust
I'm waiting for the moon to show me