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Certain for Miles

de Cayetana

I fall asleep to the sound of violence
And I wake up to the sound of sirens
And you, and your missing parts
And you, with your dreams in jars
Riding south, I can’t see the northern lights
Or the apathy we share
On those drunken summer nights
Just me, with my dreams in jars
Poor me, with my missing parts
I watch you daydream about God
Are you daydreaming still
Watch you daydream about God
Are you daydreaming still
But what has he done for you?
I fall asleep to the sounds

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