And it’s coming.
It’s going to come around.
The night is getting shorter
and our attentions' getting narrower.
The moon is getting brighter.
The eastern’s presence is getting closer.
And we’ll search and search
in cup of gold seas.
And we’ll search and search
in camel sand dunes;
in moments all alone
with aplomb, long gone
Ancient crews.
Then the coming
Glaring sunrise.
They’ll see us and hate us.
But mostly they’ll have
unwavering awe, respect, and fear of us.
