On flying platforms we cling to
The edges of supporting structures
Balancing ourselves between the ending and the end.
You turned to me to summarize
Our weekend was glass eyed and energetic
But I wished you'd never said it
As we turned into the sky
I hope you're catching this
We're sleeping without mattresses
The cold metallic surfaces
Were perfect for our purposes
So draw on me with yellow pen
And colour all our instruments
I'll give you all my energy
If you will run away with me