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1-2: introductions, 3-4: connections, 5-6: meeting (+ covers)

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I hear that mountains rise at my sun’s call

the golden light painting the mountains tall

trees in the margins and birds in the air

my torn and sunlit psyche longs for there

On the sublime essence of the sun’s call

I wish for something darker on which to fall

I long so for the wonder of the moon

its silver crater ways that leave too soon

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My star confrères cannot understand why

why I am rapt beneath the broken light

the moon at night shows only city life

but I know there is something that I’d like

I sleep at day when the sun permeates

the vacuum of the dark that I create

so I do not meet the sun up above

but I know there is something that I’d love

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I hear whispers of the dark azure hues,

the silver, the stars, the pull of the moon