Ruins of Icarian Sun
By the temple we will go walking.
There in the shade, in the slight breeze,
we gaze into our past’s gloom.
Our dreams a dried and fading sacrifice,
alter blood attended now only by ravens.
There in the shade, in the slight breeze,
we gaze into our past’s gloom.
Our dreams a dried and fading sacrifice,
alter blood attended now only by ravens.
No longer will our cries of pain ring out,
No longer will my eyes seek you out in a crowd,
No longer will I awake, turning, searching,
seeking the heat and comfort of your body.
The temple shades us, now abandoned, merely a monument.
Ancient powers, ancient fears,
engravings of flights far too close to the sun.
We will walk on, there may be an end to the shade.
[Listening to: Not The Same - Ben Folds - Ben Folds Live (4:31)]
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