The Moon and The Crane
Patrick The Pan
We
We are storms
Consuming
The peace in our heads
The peace in our beds
The scars on my back
Are what’s left
There
There were holes
We filled with
With storms in our heads
With storms in our beds
With scars on my back
Becouse the love that I dragged was to be woken by the morning after
It was to be alive, by the morning sun
And the path that we walked was leading nowhere but to disaster
Such a sad and a perfect fall
Falling down
Into the jaws
The moon and the crane
Watching us
Stones
In my shoes
Will they always be there
Despite how perfect is the path?