Chains stretch the great lake around you
Pull you along by the knots in your hair
It's just like you'd never been there
Cold tooth and ice scattered islands
Faithfully facing the warmth of the sun
All to the quickening dawn
Fever on the thorough-way brow
The sober scent of paper
Teething cries in what the rain hides
Were not enough to save you
Faith is a race from the silence
Widens and swallows you
Head first and whole
Fight through the whitening bones
Secede while you can while you're able
Sorrow may tap at the root of your song
Light sparks the opening bomb
Fever on the thorough-way brow
The sober scent of paper
Teething cries in what the rain hides
Where not enough to save you
Every ache is dissolved in the brine
And the waves from the bay and then rise
But the shark ridden garden will run dry again