The line of me
is the fire within
to myself I lie
despite a thousand beliefs
The line of this
is my bursting within
rising behind the cover
more than alive its surreal
In spite of this
these flailing arms around me seem to be
the only thing that grounds me into being
forever holding darkness in between
the meaning that this hour gives to me
A line in me
marking fortune within
breaking a tale of magic
this time I know its too real
Despite all of this
these flailing arms around me seem to dig
right through this empty vastness into me
they flash bizarre reminders back at me
they read out what this hour means to me
And in spite of this
these flailing arms surround me and fail to see
the only thing that holds me into being
forever turning darkness into dream
the meaning that this hour gives to me
the meaning that this hour gives to me
the meaning that this hour gives to me
