Co2

The church in the ditch,
been down there for a while...

Get out...
in the sauna...
Get out...

Fickle...split...ends,
splatter bright neon paint,
on the moon...
on the moon...

Bringing it
down.

So lets take
one more trip
to the moon....Deep red
under your eyes.

Your robe is maroon,
and stay out longer...

Started in the church,
stained smiles on the side
of the church.

Your gesturing power
with you shadow puppets,
with a lamp flickering,
and the rain creeping
into the room.

Just a second,
lets hold on,
should stop and think
before the trip.

But the telephone rang,
I answered.

But I didn't talk.

Heard whispers,
from the piles of stones.