The Age Of Rockets

Fearsome Though We Are

The Age Of Rockets


rain hits the windshield 
and tires give way
and for a moment
just a moment ... 

and you whisper, you whisper
"it's your anxiety"

tell me why you're scared
tell me why you cannot sleep
and i won't do a thing

and shore lines spread out infinite 
in four-four time with wasted breath.
their spinning heads 
don't make a dent in you ... 
and you whisper in my ears
"it's your anxiety"

fearlessly we brave the darkest streets that we know
living dead! we don't heed a word that they say!
fearsome, though we are ... i still have one on you