Sun is gone
Here's the fool's night
I've no guns to show

Cities rush
Traffic lights put queens and kings on hold

Here, I take as my canvas this quiescent door
To paint your moves
Every gesture
Ceiling to the floor

All the ceilings inside
Oh, the healing within
I would walk through the aging door
But time will still remain

I rely on a rum cup
And I smoke for two
I'll trust anything that makes easier being a part of you

You could come like the Jesus that the others spread
And wash the feet of the father I never met

Now adrift, falling pieces, movement and words
I break loose in my own hell for having you that close
Now you walk in your cool jazz, and I turn into stone
We resign, we just wait for the chances to confirm