When the living takes the magic When the wind swallows the storm When the fire dies in the twilight and I stop And the sky seems open wide to me— a cavern to fall into or a parachute I'm hanging from There are noises There are moments There is something in between I look but cannot see I listen but cannot hear When the writing takes the words When the hunger takes the food When all that's left in this darkness is light And I stop
Stop
Stop
Stop
When the living takes the magic When the wind swallows the storm When the fire dies in the twilight and I stop And the sky seems open wide to me— a cavern to fall into or a parachute I'm hanging from There are noises There are moments There is something in between I look but cannot see I listen but cannot hear When the writing takes the words When the hunger takes the food When all that's left in this darkness is light And I stop