Once a day the sun walks down the giant steps at river’s south
and fire ants begin to crawl and drag along theirs joyful friends, letting go of all pretense,
on the bottom of a bottle they put dreams and let it float,
and runners run and rollers roll and clouds will go and skies won’t fall,
and all the songs I’ve listened told me where to go,
the gorgeous and the guy and fountains of a kind remind me of a taste I used to share,
long before I saw her eyes and long before she’s gone
I’ve searched myself for signs and burned a candle to The Lord,
did you ever strike the chord or will you always play in Re Bemol?

Once a year the giants walk along the evening sun,
the game is tight and no one knows what they’ll come to find,
you never dress in red for it has been told to be bad and so believes your dad,
I’ll kiss you on the cheek and write a letter to say goodbye
and I’ll drop the brick I carried in my chest for at least 9 months,
for I am a rock and I will change for nothing and for no one anytime,
only rain will care for me and wash away my dirt and stain
and the weight I put on things will build borders to the sin…