My head lifts from sorrow, The mess I've made is to behold. Can I organize my life? When I'm chased by my blights? And through every action I caused, My emotion becomes my perspective. So let that moon dawn with an ethereal blue, And let me know through the light, What is proven truth, And when the truth lies.
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And as I continue to linger, The moon eventually fades. Where in the presence of doubt, And the paroxysm of self-loathing , I'm cured by a serenade of time, And I remember where I stand in life. Through the world and the endless skies, I ask you, Where you and I stand afar, Amongst the constellations Way up high by the stars?
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