It's how the moon injects colors into me, into my old dying mind Its blue, red, and green in my plasma they sail and travel through my veins
Remarkable stars, they send my lost soul home Home, that is my mortal frame, home that is bound to earth And so sound I laid That I can finally get a grip
Sometimes the cloud comes too Their cotton-like apparition soft to the touch, overly-sensitive, and inhumanly empathetic, pouring down a rain For it cried So I don't have to cry alone
The night sky helps, by wrapping me within its blanket of darkness, lulling me to sleep to the song of the wolves, blowing winds that rock the greens ever so gentle, and therefore I know, when light has gone, and the night has come, I'm alive once more