All too soon we've come to bloom
Blown about and dusty rivers
And pointed skywards, scrape the heavens
And should we end before we're shriven
And call the names that we've been given
Grown in cities long since abandoned
Blown to pieces and thrown at random
This is what we see while standing
Long before the thought of landing
Oh this world was made for ending
Oh the storms that groan
Oh the lovely
Oh the homes that home
Oh the worlds not shown
Oh the storms that groan
Oh the lovely
Oh the homes that home
Oh the worlds not shown
Oh the storms that groan
Find the blind, de-blind
Our prayers our answered!