K Hole - Past Lives

Those visions soft and sweet hang from the hands of time

Grey fruit on broken branch, concrete on the vine

Beneath the silver and the skin, the teardrop and the sea

The hollow hole it grows into eternity

Candle in the corner, no light

No dream no sleep tonight

Babel is no tower, son;

no, Babel is that hole

Where you long to sing the songs of love but no words are your own

And the sun will shine just long enough to show you what you’ve missed

Everywhere bewildered stare, a stranger where you sit

Babel is no tower, son;

no, Babel is that pit

Where the taxman comes, collects your thoughts and puts them into print

This is all you’ve given us?

This is all there is?

Everywhere bewildered stare, a stranger where you sit