The Crossing

Maps on the back of your hands point to the cross Scratches on walls in a room draw out your loss Your islands are conquered and You are returned to the throne Martyrs take penance and Fill up the mattress with stones Pull straws with holy men Stain all the atlas pink And let us find a beach Where we can cross our hearts Stand in the wind as the carousels spin Wear out your welcome again Stand on the silence of mountains and Wear out your welcome again Mornings hit hard with an uncontrollable light Piercing the senses that click deep in the night Crouched in a pillow of straw feet on the floor Creeping a path to the mat that holds back the door Pull straws with holy men Stain all the atlas pink And let us find a beach Where we can cross our hearts Build up great railways that run Through the horns of the moon Hold up a city with cast iron museum walls Explain your machines to the boys feed them with tools Bring out the skill in your skin polish your hair Pull straws with holy men Stain all the atlas pink And let us find a beach Where we can cross our hearts Stand in the wind as the carousels spin Wear out your welcome again Stand on the silence of mountains And take a look down to the sea Stand in the wind as the carousels spin Wear out your welcome again Stand on the silence of mountains And take a look down to the sea