Things are afraid of us,
the seas we swim in,
the world we sleep with.
The sky makes a bed,
the sidewalk cracks let the light in
the sidewalk cracks let the light in
Men of the city march,
the child in the church is
parched and the needle is his arm is black
the child in the church is
parched and the needle is his arm is black
Follow the moon to find your
way home with the sun
on your right shoulder.
way home with the sun
on your right shoulder.
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