Glass Swans

Wandering wears the workday dirt away

I go down to the water to heal me of my haze

In the summer I curse the flies

In the winter I yearn blue skies

Raised in the shadow of shameful apostolic hurt

But now the sunrise is my sermon, the outdoors is my church

I make my confessions here

I offer my blessings here

And I smile as I greet the Glass Swans of the Royal Canal

They've been out here all night and they sway as I wander past

Do they sleep with their heads under water?

Do they sleep with their heads under water?

A hare chases the mist off of the day

And I go under the bridges for an echo like a Far-i phase

For an edge that is only found

Out here on the edge of town

The summer makes the drowners reappear

A season on the banks is akin to going clear

The prophecies of tin can seers

Chased down with naggins of tears

And I bow as I meet the Glass Swans of the Royal Canal

They've been out here all night and they're sacred as I wander past

Do they sleep with their heads under water?

Do they sleep with their heads under water?

Wandering wears the workday dirt away

Sky blue Saturday

Wandering wears the workday dirt away

Sky blue Saturday

Wandering wears the workday dirt away

Sky blue Saturday

And I smile as I greet the Glass Swans of the Royal Canal

They've been out here all night and they're ice as I wander past

Do they sleep with their heads under water?

Do they sleep with their heads under water?

Do they kneel with the sod as their alter?

Do they sleep with their heads under water?