the center's unrequited passion for outside

 
where the setting sun settles
discrepencies over the word promise
the rivers run west of wet, and dry
wells are a tomorrow always burden

this is where the stars stand still
in a hall of mirrors

and time did end
and waves do ripple
and forever is a blessing
once we accept it's perishable
and is already over

the debt was cleared once we borrowed more

only one out of a thousand of us is gonna make it
and the sparrows of paradise will peck
nine hundred and ninety nine morsels until
they become dust
then collect
on the stasis of the single, tipping
it into another again