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maybe in a lifetime the ones like me will resurrect
my monument immortal but tarnished I suspect
that holds my generation's failures put song.
the jail house holding all our years undone
the passing of the time we killed when we were young
the archives of our blessed few and all that they've done wrong or hadn't done at all
when the longing in our lives fades as light resigns
away beneath the skyline, 'neath the cities
our emptiness reads like a sign
with all the love between you and I
I'll mind my future as the sunlight trends to life
though my divinity may tightrope the sharpest knife
because I have none of what lies above
beyond the stars and sky
beyond the flight of dove.
