eastern skies in the depth of the night

the ringing goes down in history with the television light

so many people run and they all want to stare

running for the lives of others and searching for the sparkling dome

nothing but blood all over someone else's bones

carving letters in the bark of the tree

its all a dream and we're trying to leave a simple memory

calling out in the night the spiritual beings leave

maybe through the confusion of the words

theyll find something they could actually believe