The beautiful ghosts when I close my eyes
Are a meditation in fire
Are a meditation in fire
The old names, written in smoke
I call them, to remember, then to forget
I call them, to remember, then to forget
All the pretty worlds a mind can make
They know me in their sleep
But they are the thing that morning will break
So another me, each morning may wake
But you must hold me with your eyes
And touch me, as I touch you with my words
And then might we sleep dreamless,
Beneath the beating wings of birds
And then might we sleep dreamless,
Beneath the beating wings of birds
Because I never forget the night owns me
Within a shadow, I am her breeze
So that this flame flows past our lips
Through all the lies we sold ourselves
Round the bind my hands would unmake
While counting a dervish of stars
Would I be clean, but hollowed out
Innocence, hungrily collapsed
Through all the lies we sold ourselves
Round the bind my hands would unmake
While counting a dervish of stars
Would I be clean, but hollowed out
Innocence, hungrily collapsed
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