Gravity keeps on calling me home
It's a blackout while I'm standing, basking in moonlight
The heavy cloud curtains roll back and I'm drifting
I'm coated in silver like a lunar spectre
I'm a hazy outline, just a wisp of smoke
And the white light is cleansing me
And I'm drawn to the pull
An artist's impression of ice and stone
As I am caught, staring at the moonrise
