by Jon Foreman.
Calling, falling, slipping tides
The voice of leaky, dripping pipes
Endless, aching drops of light
Running, pushing falling down
Always longing, always now
Silent underneath these streets
Even blood finds ways to bleed
Even rivers ways to run
Even rain to reach the sun
Even here within these means
Within this skin, within these dreams
Longing for the other shore
The world we've never been before
Restless for the infinite
With tears of saints and hypocrites
For death and life, for night and day
With blood of black and white and grey
One by one by one by one
Our rivers surge and fight and run
Until the sea of glass we meet
At last completed and complete
Where tide and tear and pain subside
And joy and laughter drink them dry
The voice of leaky, dripping pipes
Endless, aching drops of light
Running, pushing falling down
Always longing, always now
Silent underneath these streets
Even blood finds ways to bleed
Even rivers ways to run
Even rain to reach the sun
Even here within these means
Within this skin, within these dreams
Longing for the other shore
The world we've never been before
Restless for the infinite
With tears of saints and hypocrites
For death and life, for night and day
With blood of black and white and grey
One by one by one by one
Our rivers surge and fight and run
Until the sea of glass we meet
At last completed and complete
Where tide and tear and pain subside
And joy and laughter drink them dry
