Matt Pond Pa

I've found a way beyond the dark
Filthy and humble hands strike the spark
From cardboard cones through screen door squares
My pockets of smoke, roll down the stairs
Long braids of leaves printed on knees
We fought through sleep, those wars were sweet
I've fed my lines, blank gutted words
Our shadows running, filled up with thirst
I found a way, the curtains part
Failed songs sung loudly through holes in hearts