There are days I can imagine
Sitting in between the words of
Conversation between heretics
And anarchists and god.
Just as there are days I might be found
Perching up on telephone poles --
Hooked up, linking together
Such a lonely world
These little spools of tangled threads
Those strings that tie us all together
Someday, they will have to come undone
And fear is the reaction I'm looking for
When you ask me, "what's in store for me?
My home? And my town?" And I tell you,
"Everything's got to burn to the ground
Then freeze back over someday."
So, Hector, your brother betrayed you
And now your neck has been speared through
But don't you dare ask for mercy or pity
Because I, myself, am surrounded by swords
And if you can bring death on your own accord
Then certainly, I can, too, incite such fatalism
And joy is the emotion I'm searching for
When you ask me, "What am I doing here?"
Because my answer is "To sit and watch,
And not much more."
Save our souls, save our souls
We are pleading in Morse code
So, what is the emotion you're digging for?
Does it have a name you can call it by?
Or is it stuck between the words in that dialog?
Is it stuck between the people and their god?