A Line

They say it's all black and white,
and that's okay, could be they're right.
But I don't want to spend my life defining in from outside.
Everything'll change by the time you decide.
So, I want to stretch my arms out wide.
I want to reach both sides.
There're an infinite number of points in me, between two times.
I want to be a line.
Where, oh, I suppose, I'll change my mind.
Ah, the door will close, I will intertwine.
I'll fold in upon myself, become an empty design.
And you can color me in, if you promise to lie.
And say you know what you're doing.
And I'll be only color.
And you'll see that there was always wonder.
And finally you can step back from me, see your masterpiece,
just a history.
And I will become a vast terrain.
I'll be here when the iceberg's coming.
And I'll find a place to stay where it's safe.
I won't be the one to run away.
When the air brightens orange,
and the sun rises violently down from the north.
When I begin to realize just what's been in store,
I'll recognize the need for pleasant warmth.
They say it takes only a day.
Tomorrow, I say, everything will change.