Zrg Rsh

Send for the physician,
To set the bone,
Those longings and thoughts that we
Thought we thought were not our own
Pieces don’t fit
There’s no need to belong,
Pieces don’t fit
There’s no need to be awake.
And yet I am, awake
To a thousand nations of sand.
Suspended in air,
By the smoke that we push out of our lungs.
And I know it gets hard to breathe,
But if we don’t, there’s no point in moving our feet,
From side to side, from side to side.
A beacon of light stands in front of us
We’ve only to demand that it’s real.
Though our bonds seem innocuous
Every moment is a life that they steal
Be brave, be firm and stand tall
And know that they fall
Banners and nations fall,
To the knees of those bent down in worship, Golden.
Constantly pushing on and out,
Push out.
These monuments fall, these monuments.
I am not the counselor for throwing stones.
Broken will for mortar.
Gates wrought from severed bone.
Pieces don’t fit,
There’s no need for crowns,
Pieces don’t fit,
There’s no need for crowns,
Pieces don’t fit,
Eyes wide, I’m awake.
Awake.