◉ ●⦿ ● ⦿● ◉

i know what the city lights
do to the night sky,
when no one’s looking
but i can’t decide...

‘cause though i crave the constellations,
the fog above my head, illuminated...
i don't know how to phrase it
it’s not a dream

and i want to see everything
and i want to breathe easily
and i want to let the night sky bleed
its blacks and blues down into me,
like a moon-bleached tapestry

and i want to see everything
and i want to breathe easily
and i want to let the night sky lean...
its dappled flank down upon me,
like a flawed philosophy

◉ ⦿● ⦿ ◉ ⦿ ●⦿ ◉

‘cause i’ve seen what the city lights
do to the night sky.
i keep an eye, out...
i can’t decide,
somehow.

‘cause though i crave the constellations
glass towers above my head, illuminated...
i don’t know how to phrase it

and though i crave the constellations
the rain, about my head, illuminated;
i’m not sure how to say it...
i don’t know how to phrase it...
it’s not a dream...

● ⦿ ◉ ⦿ ●

and i want to see everything
and i want to breathe easily
and i want to let the night sky bleed
its blacks and blues down into me,
like a moon-bleached tapestry

and i want to see everything
and i want to breathe easily
and i want to let the night sky lean,
its dappled flank down upon me...
like a flawed philosophy.

◎ ● ⦿ ◉ ⦿ ● ◎