Nowhere to be seated in the distance
When whole world burn burn like wild fire
A headless heathen is staring at the ceiling
Where he saw a couple stars in the moonlight
Pointing at the nothing on his shoulders
But the nothingness is filled with night sky
And I'm pretty sure he's not the only
One to accompany the sky in a bedroom so lonely
Drop the wheel, don't you steer
Away from here, made it this far so
Love the fear that never heals
I want to run, but will I live if I
Leave myself dead and
Be fed to the demon inside
A heathens sore soles and wet clothes
He spilled as he was drinking from the firehose
Then tippy-tip-toes as the fire grows
Getting real close, which part of him knows to
Drop the wheel, don't you steer
Away from here, made it this far so
Love the fear that never heals
I want to run, but will I live if I
Leave myself dead and
Be fed to the demon inside
He'll be caught in a head, as it burns red
What a beautiful sight
Painfully attached to naming and claiming
This reflection on glass, when it's clear
That I'm not here,
What I see over there in the mirror
The heathen's never sure if he's better on his own
Nothing on his mind, but who would ever know?
Cautious are his steps, he's headless as he goes
Always on his own, because the heathen doesn't know
Nothing on his mind, but how can he be sure?
Given half a head's not meant to be alone
I left myself dead, got fed
To the demon inside
But he faltered and fled, then a clear head
Heard the sound of the quiet