Sun showers and baths in cold water
We have fallen angels in our bones
Our eyes have seen the ancient roads
So we wash our minds in paleolithic streams
And wander these streets in turbulent need of comfort
Hands tied I waste time burying my feelings
Grief rings a bell and all who hear it
Must eventually heed it's warning
So long architecture
If all the falling buildings finally crumbled
Then would you break free
Like an old violin at a tired symphony
The sound of rain falling from the Pleiades
Pouring down from heaven
While seven sisters dance
Wildly beneath the oak tree