Walking real slow
I find you asleep in the meadow
Here is my head
It's right on my pillow asleep in my bed
Down on the path
There's nothing to hear but a laugh
Caught in my mouth
Against the things I am thinking about
Next to my room
I question the space of my tomb
What's for me here?
A skin left behind me as I disappear
How can I find
The very things I've left behind
Hidden from sight
And precious to those unaware of my flight
Simple to know
And hard to contain what the words do not show
How to compare
The beauty of wisdom with you standing there
Inside my room
I feel the cold walls of my tomb
What I am here
Resembles existence when I disappear