Nombe A Million Miles From Crescent Skies
A million miles from crescent skies
Far from light or dire times
We exercise our right to fly up eye to eye 'til we arrive
And as we fall back down to our demise
To a pillow case and a mighty sigh
Short of breath from a climb this high
I think, "What a decline"
If this is it I'm fine with dying
Say goodbye to everything that I am
Flesh and mind
Thoughts of Freud
And hello odes of joy
I'm your newest employee waiting to be assigned
And oh how I will oblige
Blindly, kind, without a fight
Let's rest...
