In the boarded up sanctuary
when this bright blue dot is a cemetery
and all hope is gone for vaccination,
you and I are finally declared a nation.
When I was a young boy I saw this day come
when the sky would be ours alone.
On the good days we go to the grocery store
in our sock feet we glide along the floor
The bad days are full of friends we used to have and blood.
The bad days are really fucking bad.
When we were young you and I saw a pillar of fire in the east
and we prayed for the harvest; we prayed over our families.
Irene, dream logic guides me through fields of the Lord,
fields so obscure.
The dirt between my toes is all the love that I need
’til I stop breathing
so hard.
Don’t let them take your side – your side is yours alone
where we hide, when reason’s overthrown
by the tide of broken instinct.
Hall of Records 