And we hunker down beneath these barriers
we call sheets and pillows,
blocking out the world with our blankets.
They keep us safe from the monsters in our heads.
But we hide from starlight as well,
forgetting say our evening prayers
as we fall underneath the bloody warmth,
calling out against our own degenerate nightmares.
Really, it's just an eclipse of our humanity.
All we have to do is rue our reasons and despise our duties
and we may release our hopes unto the moon,
praying the web of dream catchers snatches them up.
It's rather funny how we pretend that we are safe
and how we swipe away those angry tears.
You always said there was something shameful in singing onself to sleep,
why is it every night the humming starts from your mouth?
There's always the third star to the right,
or maybe it was the second and you've forgotten.
That's what you're really crying for, love, isn't it?
That you've forgotten and there isn't a trick in the world to remind you.
