You lit a candle
on the black sand.
Would you forgive me if I drifted into
the waves with my guilt and my memories?
I'll catch the sea lion, you can't get a swing.
They built God in the factory.
What I left for,
to set myself, I had to break.
I tore myself away-
over me
until I'm glass, till I'm scoured and worthy.
Against the sea lion you can't get a swing.
They build God in the factory.
