There's a secret at the
beating heart of all this
but you'd need to dig for
miles and miles to scratch
at the very tip of it.
There's a longing in that heart
like a key molded in wilderness
meant to find a perfect fit.
And it's common knowledge
that the keepers of the flame
are old with scars badly knit
but we keep climbing up
this ******* hill
with the spark until it's lit.
And I don't know the truth
or if the truth will save us
from the yawning open pit
but I've got your hand
in my hand and footfall
echoes down forever saying
"Give up on the pie cause
the bites already bit."
And so we wade into dark
ocean and inhale heavy
water and sink until we sit.
The bubbles float our
past away and we hesitate
to reach for them because
it's so ******* hard
to give a ****
Blacking out together
because the open secret
hurts too much to admit.