Not Quite Connected

Our colony
Is shining through the shaking of the artificial moon
The light of noon

Cut ragged glass
Kalidoscope of soapy film refract the rays that pass
The blades of grass

Recite the words that you were taught

The face of man
You stare into the center as the colors bleed away
The dryest rain

You feel the same
The dirt beneath your saddle boots is snaping as you step
Into the scene

This life is just a pale frame

Don't you ever worry bout those dizzy spells you feel
That's just the taming of the ghosts
They can't hurt you, they'll desert you now

Take up your arms
The final day is here, you feel the pinging in your ear
Now disappear

The flaming sky
The rally of a lost July, the night preceds the lullabye
And takes away the last supply of day