I am the gust that blew out the flame and tossed the stone I am the lady in white one finger bloodied and pointing I am the hermit crushed by the stone I am something old something new and something glued I am a doll every string tied not cut I am whiplash I am the impact I am the looked upon I am the try again I am I am I am [Error]
I followed the moon last night it led me back home to a small town of wanders and warm tinted company
the sun followed me this morn the radio told me what it looked like before I could see anything just how high up do i have to be to see it
then I saw orange against the blue
a singing flame and a living stone greet the air and they sing themselves to a drunken slumber
the moon has shrunk there's no sunrise in the morning the radio doesn't describe anything and the flame died at first gust I'm waiting for the moon to show me