The black-streaked, bag-eyed husbands
Move, waiting to be widowed
By the passing of familiar skies
And all we've come to know.

Our shadows
Have my sympathy,
'Cause they must never wish to be
Joined beneath, unwillingly,
Our endless, restless feet.

So, praise
Be the break of day.
When we run out of things to say,
We'll learn to speak in different ways.
So plea,
With the cities to be free and
May beauty make them bend and sway.
We'll learn to speak in different ways.

Our lust's caught,
Frozen in the streetlight;
Our indecision rides atop the crow.

It burned out,
Blackened, turned to ash, and blew away;
To embers far too bright to see;
Not there enough to weigh.

Lyrics submitted by Yelir, edited by CAKunited

Husbands song meanings
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