Vague,  vacant 
Like a madman's memory

The sky housed his soul
On a bed of stones

There are things that hunt us
Places that curse us
like trying to find home
In the shadows of a broken boy

That boy whose shadow covers my shame
That boy whose broken voice
Echoes my woes
That boy...oh don't you see?
We prey on the hunter our dreams

And we awake,  the preyed
Praying for voices 
Waiting for echoes 
But the boy looses his song 
And soul and self in the shadows 
Of a loathing history
How does a man find his name?

In a cold wine of bottled emotions
Sipping and gibbering
Singing and staggering
Mocking and mimicking
Boy found his name in a keg of wine
It rippled
And laughed at him
The preyed did pray to him
But boy's nipple
Would never be suckled

For how do you find your name 
In a language that burns your soul
He knows that a broken boy is pyre
Waiting for God to call him home 
So he tries to find myself 
And becomes a hummed memory
Of mist and smoke and the silences
That prepare a table before him.

Sunshine that burn
Moonlight is gone.
Before boy stands God
Wondering what went wrong
Boy is lost