Media Luna

I stoke the fires, The dull hand for the job, I guess. This is where I've come to rest. This is what has come. Hands gripping hands. Friends strewn in perfect bands Tight across the lawn, Right across the dawn. Who knew time would fray As it's wearing thin? Tell me where to lay again, Tell me where I've been. The sky hastens pink. Then I drop my guard. I thought I was listening To the thunder in my palm. When the deed is done And the curlews sing, Throw open the doors And let the sunlight in. Lay me on the ground, Cleanse me of my sins, Let me feed the soil, please, Let me start again. I stoked the fires, The dull hand for the job, I guess. That I have come to rest. This is what has come, mmm This is what has come.