Through Me (The Flood)

Picture a man

Seen like a speck out from the shore

Swimming out beyond the breakers like he's done his life before

He feels the coming of a squall will drag him out a greater length

But knows his strength

And tries to gather it

And he swims on

Turning back to shore again

Above the outer atmosphere of a world he's never seen

And looking down to his new home, he feels the rising of a wave

And knows at once he will not weather it

Like that man

I looked down into the depths when I met you

I couldn't measure it

Any time I've struggled on

Against the course

Out on my own

Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see

That the world, it burns through me

But when I'd let go

My struggling form

My willing soul

Every time I'd flow through the world, I'd see

That the world, it flows through me

That the world, it flows through me

Picture a grave

Picture six feet freshly dug

The sharp temporary walls at the long-term cliff edge of the world

Light and air find some new deepness there and usher down the sky

Where one stands by and tries make sense of it

But try measure loss

Measure the silence of a house

The unheard footsteps at the doorway

The unemployment of the mouth

The waking up, having forgotten

And remembering again the full extent of what forever is

With each grave

I think of loss and I can only think of you

And I couldn't measure it

Any time I've struggled on

Against the course

Out on my own

Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see

That the world, it burns through me

But when I'd let go

My struggling form

My willing soul

Every time I'd flow through the world, I'd see

That the world, it flows through me

That the world, it flows through me