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The Creatures
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Simoon
Creatures
on a cloud
your face out of the crowd
a blinding sun
purging everyone
beautiful word
musical and sweet
now all you can do is play the punishing beat
how harsh and shrill
the word has become
twisted and bent
a hornets nest stirred up by the beating stick
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simoon simoon increasing speed sucking in dry land
simoon simoon you breath in suffocation
relentless simoon blow and whistle this tune
pouring in
filling
where once was space
where once was light
where once was a face
driven to tell
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