Him, The Galaxy and The Darkness

Down By The River

I remember when it was warm and beautiful. It's safe here, but it's hard to believe when you're cold.

The wind cutting right through you like shards of glass. The white sky up above you, howling it's mournful cry.

The sobbing and shaking of the leaves on the trees. The hurricane wind, whipping through. To keep walking down by the river was the only thing I could do.

The wind is warm but I am torn. I have been searching for a place to stay, for a place to be real. And finally heal.

The sun in going down now, but I am awake, hearing the sounds. The car alarms, the voices of strangers and their warm arms.

It's all too cold without you, might just break without you.

The cold, cold river is the only warmth left within me. But that warmth is starting to fade without the current. The still movement of soft sound, echoing through me.

Have I found you, flightless bird; Too young to be picked up by the wind. Too young to be heard.

Have I found you, hopeless life? Too sad to move on. Too far gone to actually be someone.

I rest my head on cold, leaf covered ground, too tired to even make a sound. My limbs heavier then they have ever been in their life.

I was too far gone now. Too late to be saved. Too dead to give a care. So why don't you pull up a chair? Sit here and watch me die. But don't dare speak a word. For all I have now is the cold river beside me, rolling and tossing through the valley.