Circular minority, together by choice.
Lost opportunity gets lost in her voice.
The whispers smile and count their time.
We got lost in lies that rhyme.
I cannot sleep; my mind won’t rest;
I’d count my sheep but I’ve got none left.
Losing all that we have found.
Presuming prayer won’t stick around.
Find me somewhere, far away,
Where the wolves do come and the sheep will play.
Watch me sleep another day,
Tonight, it seems, we cannot stay.
Tomorrow will soon be yesterday.
Dream your dreams and kneel to pray.