it's tragic to concede geothermals,
to take the deus from the machina,
and yet what could i have done?
i bowed my head and just injured my neck.
what could i have said? oh yes,
TS, i have stuttered your words.
what could i accept? because if it's all [Em]or nothing,
then i've made my [A]choice. what must i ɾeject?
and [Bm]i know that in silence there is wisdom,
but i know that this beauty is marred with peter's
scars. and [Bm]i know that in this vastness is veneration,
but the bone was [Am7]broke when nicea spoke.
the beauty becomes the model becomes the law becomes
the weight becomes the wisdom.
not so far from surrendering myself,
not so far from letting my [A]sandcastles get washed away,
not so far from wallowing in the pity,
effaced or stɾiking my [A]own damn pose.
but i know that in silence there is wisdom,
and [Bm]i know that this beauty is marred with peter's
scars, and [Bm]i know that in this vastness is veneration,
but i know that i can't walk this ɾoad with my [A]bones broke.
