I can feel it on my tongue
Brick and mortar
Thick as scripture
Drawing lines in the sand and laying borders
As tall as towers
I babble on until my voice is gone
This hill I'll die on is about
Ninety meters of bricks
Coloured indigo and inscribed with my name and lined with cedar
But the words fall flat like
Cymbals crashing, like
Molars gnashing
'Cause like constellations a million years away
Every good intention, every good intention
Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array
Looking for the faces
Looking for the shapes in the silence
All that's left for me to climb
To the heavens is
The chasm of the night and a matter of time
But I hear the rumble
As the tectonic plates start to shake
And I feel my blood pounding like the beat of a drum
'Cause like constellations a million years away
Every good intention, every good intention
Is interpolation, a line we drew in the array
Clinging to the faces
Clinging to the shapes in the silence
Like constellations imploding in the night
Everything is turning, everything is turning
And the shapes that you drew
May change beneath a different light
Everything you thought you knew
Will fall apart, but you'll be all right
