Somewhere there's a klaxon.
There's a thing going off
with all of its heart
for you and your travesty,
shuffling along one foot stepped.
Somewhere there's some medium
looking up from his glass ball
foretelling the downfall of some sky
giant, tumbling through the clouds
like a tree through lesser trees.
Somewhere someone is raising an eyebrow,
and flinching a little bit
where their mustache meets their lip,
and it is making no sense to them,
but you are
dying
and if I could keep
the blood out of your mouth
I would write you a song at the same time.
It will be snowing soon. Wait for me.
It will be snowing soon. I will meet you there.
Somewhere there's a klaxon.
There's a thing going off
with all of its heart
for you and your travesty,
shuffling along and step logiced.
Your are not loved, but wait a little while,
would you? I thought we were
on the same page and besides
everyone is a little crashed these days.
