I walk on quiet ground

slow and dark, in places you’ve held me

the places you’ve held me

 

I bring a shining stone

lay it down upon your table

upon your table

 

and fall in Fable’s den

cold, contained, the way you see me

the way you see me

 

what if I fly on iridescent wings

do you see me shine

and if I shine and speak in tongue of old

like hymns that you, hymns that you won’t know

won’t know

 

I’ll gather soul and seed

when all you hear are black birds laughing

black birds laughing

 

I’ll gather flame and fleece

a harvest of the one who made me

the one who made me

 

and I will fly on iridescent wings

do you see me shine

and I will shine and speak in tongue of old

like hymns that you, hymns that you won’t know

 

and I will fly on iridescent wings

do you see me shine

and I will shine and speak in tongue of old

like hymns that you, hymns you’ll never know