Cloak - Oceansize

Lord, let’s get the hell out of this rut

Or solace will surely never come

Exclaim, sweep discarded words away

Prophetic they never were

As the crow flies

We will walk into the gate

The spring in my step

As the taste that you make

My chaperone

My advocate

My cloaking device

I could use your advice

Cause I don’t need proof

While ever there’s you

Gravity fails

There’s wind in these sails