I see his eyes moving away from me
Oh no, is this another albatross
He knows he holds dominion over me
But what I gain is worth the cost
We share the cold embrace of cousins
I wonder if I've seen him somewhere else before
And as I wonder at his ancestry
I'm by the door
And in the telling of the story
I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase
I read his lips and I see glory
But what I hear is be afraid
So from the fog of every morning
Until the heat of day is still
I watch the clock as it turns backwards
I watch the water run uphill
And in the telling of the story
I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase
I read his lips and I see glory
But what I hear is be afraid
And in the telling of the story
I lose my way inside a prepositional phrase
I read his lips and I see glory
But what I hear is be afraid