Pray, where be the ends of the Earth
Will my wheels take me there
In the rain
On this, the blackest of nights
If not
Will due North
True North
Comfort me, ever again
Pray, where be the ends of the Earth
Will my wheels take me there
In the rain
On this, the blackest of nights
If not
Will due North
True North
Comfort me, ever again
We must never trust April, alright?
Consider back
The beginning of bad instinct
The timing of rain
And the push through despite
Do you recall its tale
Of flowers to follow
And new birth to come?
Hyperbole
Ridiculous
Conspirator, April