All's quiet, except for this song.

So maybe while I'm not together I can feel like I'm not alone.


And somewhere off in the distance, rapidly advancing, is an onslaught of sorts.


Young sirens wail with a skewed sense of glory.

And the lions in the cages roar at the memory of flight.





And there's a joy, a joy in all I can see.

A joy, in every possibility.





And all around this is a great, great feeling.

American rockets red-glared our most


disgusting triumph.


And in passing I am asked "Do you believe in a God?",

I shrug off the answer and continue to get high in this terror of no explanation.






I am looking for a faith.


My panic is an only reason.




And there's a joy, a joy in all I can see.


A joy, in every possibility.