Project yourself alive onto my corpse
You loaned yourself to this land
Of course, you had so much to give
None of us are just and all I can speak about is the
Miracle of being made to live
I can believe in lots of ragged ends
Loose, unsettling mends, thorny solutions
Tremendous value in things not being clear
The tension not settled here in absolution
So, I smile a different way
And I'm sometimes less afraid
That therе might not be a God, then therе might
We cultivate our unanswered questions and trust all will be
Right like asphalt warm into the night
