| Posted On: | 2011-09-18 14:58:12 |
Laying in bed this sunny sunday afternoon
Still drowning and still drawn by the pull of the moon
My eyes are sea, the tide is high, the tide is low
My body like a weed sending seeds in the snow
Meanings now meaningless, an upside down hangman
holding a golden cup full of grey crumbs and sand
I passed through a temple and a poor man's hunger
and I bled on the one thing that made you love her
