Seeds & Thieves Letra

jarred and anchor-less.
You want the frame focused,
you clutch the trembling lens,
and hold your breath
to find that nothing seems as it is.

So we progress,
if at a crawl,
and the clocks, well they’re chiming on;
mechanical laughter.

You wrote a song that could
make the orchids bloom.
But what’s the point,
when all you wanted was God to prove,

that they are more than seeds,
that we are more than thieves,
and this acyclic birth
is more than just chemistry?

But we are met
with the hollow ring
of that massive white noise sea.
The static. The sinless.

Counting machines
are choking down
pendulum swings;
ceaselessly asking,

“How can we be so removed?”