underlow, you’re thrown
an old God has one bolt left
in flight an aeroplane in slow motion
while all around are dark days
with all around unsure
I’ll hole up in the right place and wait
until the tide has turned
with anger
I’m dead weight
I’m anchored
the white dove has gone
the one world has come down hard
so why not share the pain of our problems
when all around are wrong ways
when all around is hurt
I’ll roll up in an odd shape and wait
until the tide has turned
with anger
I’m dead weight
I’m anchored
can somebody give me the all safe
can somebody tell me
I’m so well loved in the glow and stain
in the slow parade, will somebody tell me
I’m so well loved
and the light that shines our road has overstated nothing
while all the wine and hope are like a hill that you climb slow
for something you could not ever have
and when you said
"now the dream is dead, our autumns will never rise again"
you were right again and it hurts
wild awesome friends
they face a plain red sober wind and know the pain for what it is
they’re always the ones who slow the drift
who live for all that’s more than this
who live for all that burns
to choose their words
with anger
and dead wight
they’re anchored
went looking for something good with August
in the rain and all I’ve ever saved
I’m stuck at the fork that hides my road
why does the ground take hold once every mile from home?
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