Flood

I am restless in the cadence of a copper-covered night
I'm hiding on your doorstep
I am curiously cautious, we are recklessly alright
The satellites ignore us

I am made of your sorrow
I am made of your blood
I am made of the agitated waters
That rolled from you to me like a flood

I am crazy crunched and crying in the quiet of the streets
I turn and burn and wither
And I dreamed I knelt by everyone I knew
Praying to be delivered

I am made of your passion
I am made of your blood
I am made of the songs of desperation
That flowed from you to me like a flood

I am strung up loose and lying like a death's head on a chime
I am a hundred years of winter
And living life-like in the cradle of a melody and rhyme
In the sleep of your golden October, turn over, and so -

I am made of your silence
I am made of your blood
I am made of the syllables you crave
That sank into my skin like a flood