We have clear blue waking skies
and the morning after
and memories of gold on the run
flying around
was there a drunken cloud
over someone just empty
a vision of a mountain you say
so where did it go

It was light and I held it like a child to be saved
from the fires, and from the falling down satellites
but still wondering

"Damn, you always treat me like a stranger, mountain
though you’ve seen the shadow between the city and what is mine
and fallen kids, all rising mad among their lost believers
suddenly darker in their eyes and their broken smiles
It’s only what these kids will haul around"

There’s a lot of selling land for hungry feet of answers
and medicine for balance and things, like seeing your ghosts
thank god we’re bright, said the lantern’s brother,
because I don’t know a thing about boats, or the land I see…

It was day and I stood there once again, climbing equipped
when I knew you were the one throwing dying stars
on our gathering
but he said,

"Damn, you always treat me like a mountain, stranger
though I have never seen your shadows or fading lights
I’m just a rock that you’ll be picking up through all your ages
always believing there’s a canyon for every blind
it’s only what these kids will haul around."