This started out as some things do
One wispy wild, one thin lone shoot
It spread ahead before me
And while I used to run it out-ran me
Face that we all contain
Been in many and sun will fade
We are twisted from fibers unto thread
And we will wind ourselves till they're dead
Like a peacock peak
It sits in many chests
Oh I know it will, it numbs me
But has known many more, before me
From my tissues and from my strands
Sits a figure with out-stretched hands
Saying we can sit solitary
We can crouch in sanctuary
We can gather, gather, gather
We can gather, gather, gather
Our threads into you
