A flurry of setting cracks among the steel
Laying blaze to the ocean’s fate
manifest destiny, the cosmo gold of the west
Where the star is not dying, but setting to bring forth another sun
To whistle on those wild lonesome
Days of rough northern terrain
Where you dug up our souls from the winding river
Whistled sweet into jazz dreams
Faintly singing in mute messages sent down
In the bayou’s mighty hymn  
Cobalt struck by Divine light,
gifted from above
Venus rising from the sea was just spellbound by daydreamers endless sins tormented by minds
Haunted by wills and ego of misleading love torn down from artistic sacrifice,
To heal is to help, through instilling our gift of such cosmic gold, sewn into Apollo’s harp for lost souls to be saved, sung asleep by the triumph of our tribulations