When the Moon Brings the Silver - Matt Pond PA

When the moon brings the silver back down

Through the islands, the sky, and the branches

The end is always beginning

When the moon brings the silver back down

To the concert of wings in the clearing

Keep the choruses coming

When the moon brings the silver back down in the dirt there are worlds upon

words where we guess that the glimmers fumbling onto your side, cross the line

Cold in the veins, your hands in mine

When the moon brings the silver back down

As the tigers strike waves in the shadows

When the moon brings the silver back down beside on the streets where we speak

through machines

My mouth full of marbles, tumbling onto your side, cross the line

Cold in the veins, your hands in mine

I’ll take your side, cross the line

You take my side, cross the line

When the moon brings the silver back down

In the pasture where folks still sleep standing

We become what we’re seeing

When the moon brings the silver back down in the dirt there are worlds upon

words where we guess that the glimmers crashing down onto your side,

cross the line

Cold in the veins, hands in mine

I’ll take your side, cross the line

You take my side, cross the line