Back to the world,
|
the acrobats spinning around
|
with his head in the bay,
|
stepping in close to that door
|
Shivers in pain,
|
his mind slipping back in to
|
behind his view
|
a place he made through that door
|
|
back filling gold and colors that
|
poured from his mouth dripping shame
|
found as the flowed through that door
|
comforts in time
|
that pull and push against the
|
moon climbing games
|
that reach us to get through that door
|
|
Now back to the world,
|
the acrobats spinning around
|
their heads in the bay
|
all the way back to that door
|
It's in the door
|
|
-----------------
|
Sapphire Magic
|
| Portugal. The Man |
