These are the hands that we hold.
Are they the ones we prayed for?
Do we hold them and thank god?
Do we hold them together?

It's five A.M. but its always five A.M. for me.
She tied knots in his lounges, she tied knots with her love, these knots can't hold everywhere.

He directs his pen like an army of ants, like Caesars.
He holds his head like like heavy books, like the last cannon ball, like its halloween.
He's so clean.
He is a space boy, and a space boy's nightmare,

I pray the sunlight stays focused.
beam on me.
beam me up.
sun beams.