All night under the Northwest stars,
the sun always came up again.
No resonance No apotheosis No adoration
No.
The circle crafted in Uzbekistan didn't fit the finger,
the crazy thing about signs is that we never listen.
three hundred fifty-eight.
The week we didn't get.
The life we didn't get.
I told you I'd weather the weather both good and bad,
but it rains.
And sometimes it just rains.
And I can't tell whose scars hurt me
more:
Yours or mine.
three hundred fifty-eight.
The week we didn't get.
The life we didn't get.
What was all that sweet work worth?
.