Old Friend

I whisper the tongue like an old friend
 I cherish my time here alone
 I wait in the eyes of the passing nights
 To help me laugh brushfires again
 By the swallows sleeve I'm a new hand
 Cutting out the shapes that burn me
 I can touch the mouths of these child gods
 And these true minds that hurt man
 And the will will go up
 To the crashing sails
 And the crushing wails
 Of my old pan
 This wind screams while I'm asleep
 And dreams that these white eyes
 Will smile again
 And the will will go up
 To the crashing sails
 And the crushing wails
 Of my old pan
 This wind screams while I'm asleep
 And dreams that these white eyes
 Will smile again
 I take to the road like an old man
 I cherish my time here alone
 I process the lines of the passing lights
 Losing myself, I change my plans
 By the western walls
 I'm a cursed hand
 By the eastern seas
 I'm hardly wrong
 I can swing myself down from these trees
 When I crave a glimpse of weary sands
 ♪
 I whisper the tongue like an old friend
 I cherish my time here alone
 I swing myself down from these trees
 To help me laugh brushfires again