The Lights
Never could have reckoned it could come to this
Why'd we need to?
Playing the window; to hide
The lights, you could never see so many
In from the cold they come
Be they sparks, be they suns, they all need the darkness to spring from
Colouring the walk with your crayon eyes
Every picture a rediscovered guide
The lights?
You could never see so many
In from the cold they come
Be they fire diagnosed
Or when your eyes are closed
Aloud or as quiet as they come
Be they faint
Be they bright
An unexpected sight to build from
I could go on and on
Be they sparks, be they suns, they all need the darkness to spring from
Autor(es): Rhob Cunningham