And so, to begin, let's take a step back
I always try to understand my mind's attack
After all, the slack I left earlier was bound to resurface
And without a straight, calculated, coherent purpose
So, without purpose, I'm left to put pieces together
Of a love that once kept me vibrant, but weathered
So I find myself at night, the haint of a day passed on
The nights always unsnarl my gnarled, old angst
As if God himself pried apart the roots of Angel Oak
My downsides open up and my rightsides slip left
Down a synchronized slope of meditation
To a silent refuge of rehabilitation
If only my love was as clear as those nights
If only she would open for me as I do to those nights
A mellifluous cataclysm of passion-fed forces
Halting only to witness each others' blushed faces
A clash so illuminating, the moon's light it graces
And what about the day?
As much as the heat would melt away the toxins
It's actually hard to say
What really goes on because a large collection of discordant information gathers
In my mind, to my displeasure, and fills
Kills, fills, kills, and still finds itself lodged in the deepest recesses of thought
Processed and overcooked
Until I find myself doing nothing, and sitting with vivacious nature
As I do with night's lamenting tempo, hours later
Under a moon so damn bright, you'd think the old moon giant was happy again
But that old mistake, that's when his tears flood the James River again
So I find my love, and then I lose it again
With each gain an unwanting look
And with each loss a potent refrain:
When the sun sinks down past that dark horizon
And the blackguard's lighthouse shines once more
I'm gonna find my love in those cold tidal depths
Of the turbid black sea
That took my love from me
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