everyone talks about disaster
a spine tingle tine spingle
i knew it was coming
my grandmother knew it was coming
her grandmother knew it was coming
we sleep but never soundly
and forget our dreams, a sphere walking with
dreams dead to silence.
the great eye of history never closes
blazing as it does above every quiet town
and the skies continue to pour fire
while the bodies of the earth turn
radiant light flickering on our eyelids.