Sometimes I pretend I am the essence of all that's good to be, One with this work of art we breathe And I look down through the clouds From the moon, And through them watch myself struggle to find sleep.
I watch the artist struggle there, Swatching shades behind eyelids And turning time for me.
I watch a seed in the soil Work its only way To me.
I see the broken part of you, Which is like a shattered heaven Spilling black blood between everything That spills into the night sky.