Are we leaving the city? | I believe in you
Do you believe in me?
What do you want to do?
Are we leaving the city?
On the black road
Through the gold fields
While the fields are plowed
Towards what we are allowed
The bridle bends in idle hands
And slows your canter to a trot
We mean to stop, in increments
But can't commit, we post and sit, in impotence
Beneath a pale sky
Beside the red barn
Below the white clouds
Is all we are allowed
Here, the light will seep
And the scythe will reap
And spirit will rend
In counting toward the end