Forgot tonight to spot the light.
And fought no fight. Too wrong. Too right.
Tonight a song. Not right, not wrong.
Been blind too long. Alive but numb.
Try to cry out loud this time.
Try to figure out the writing on the inside.
Try to speak with all my might.
As if the world don’t spin.
And all the light grows dim.
While I just sit here within.
Combine. Consume. Confine the moon.
In time. So soon. So fine a clue.
Define the sun. The blinding one.
Behind what’s done the light will come.
- David Zintl
- David Zintl, Christian Schmidt