Stand still for me.
I
feel dizzy.
Numbers are smoking four in the morning,
the empty streets of home.
Selling the secret sickness forgiveness
and doors you pass through alone.
And I'm still on the run,
waiting for the sun.
I'm still on the run, waiting
for the sun.
Messenger sent me away with a bottle of lost information in time.
Octaves of hexagram harmony warned me with synthesizers of shine.
Hanging attached in the darkness,
separated in the light.
Kill off the leader,
pay off the meter,
blind and silent.
Already begun,
waiting for the sun.
Rise.
Silver safety,
come awake me.
I can see you.
I think I need you.
Tell me when it hurts.
I
will meet you there.
Temples falling,
morning calling to the air.
Counting down to one,
waiting for the sun.
