I'm suspended now, hanging in the gray of a weather beaten town. December rolls around, lays a blanket of herself on the ground where comfort lives in sound, like a gun laying cold on the ground with no way to spell it out. There's still much to say of a gun left down. Most of me is elsewhere wondering shall we hear a song or shall we live one soaked to the bone. I'm suspended now, hanging in the gray of a weather heavy cloud, soften my face and bow to bid my farewells to the ground for now. Part of me is sinking and pondering, hope is a gracious term, aligned with the faith that reason has a course to take, may it be the just one until then... I will drown, and go down without a fit. How glorious is it? Bound in sound, even and weightless and free from wrist to wrist.
Lyrics submitted by XkannenX