Skies and scars
always catch the eye
I have drifted off
how could I
a temperate
empty tenament
is an endless sea
for such castaways
moments pass
I am cold and still
I am fixed upon
these hands
the world is charged
with a fear of God
theres a penalty
for such innocence
you can always have whats left
you can always have whats left
you can always have
whats left of the moment
ow and then
through these sentiments
I can almost see
the lines
the starting gate
is a dream for some
theres a fantasy
for each motorcar
you can always have whats left
you can always have whats left
you can always have whats
left of the moment
dont see the lines
I only read between
like broken butterflies
judged by God
and I can live
inside of this mcahine
theres identity
beyond these batteries
you can always have whats left
you can always have whats left
you can always have whats
left of the moment