In a daydream you had made arrangements for
Pretty flowers laid after the massacre
You awoke in a startling start of death
The holy ghost, the townies, tangled in a total mess
As if Sam Shepard rang the early morning bells
With an email from the grave - "I hope this message finds you well" If there was ever any lingering doubt
Kid, just look at where we are right now
But on the precipice
Sometime after this
We'll watch the changing tides deride this false self-righteousness
Where the truth is laid
Just up the stairs
I will meet you there
Sweet black-haired burnout out on 2nd avenue The nation turns its lonely eyes to you
I came here to find forgiveness
I came to risk it all
I came to write my name upon the sacred green room wall
And she said
On the precipice
Sometime after this
We'll hear the music try to fight, divide and conquer this And when they break for smokes
Right up the stairs
I will meet you there
And after the afterparty, in the pre-dawn hush We'll find a coffee cart preparing for the morning rush And if I cease to understand the gift they've given me Then god have mercy on the soul that doesn't know it's free
Cause on the precipice
Sometime after this
I may again lose sight of all the lives I could have lived But where the music plays
Like an anxious prayer
And all the promises we made
Are vanquished in the air
Where the answers lay
I will meet you there