Days and nights fuse into one
And prayers divide into two
Like a tree would sing to a canary
At three in the morning.
The night marked its reign
With a light bulb that had died.
Then it plagued a boy's mind
With a cup of tea his mother didn't make.
And once the séance has begun,
We all know it will never end.
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 5:06 PM UTC
Days and nights fuse into one
And prayers divide into two
Like a tree would sing to a canary
At three in the morning.
The night marked its reign
With a light bulb that had died.
Then it plagued a boy's mind
With a cup of tea his mother didn't make.
And once the séance has begun,
We all know it will never end.
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