protest the hero
moonlight
Yawn awake Familiar surroundings All hotel rooms are pretty much the same, Though the room number might change  Catch a glimpse of everything within the lighter's flame There's always a window and so changes the view Affording a clue to the answer that's owing Where we might be and where we might be going  There's no fixed address but the band, white as a suburb, Catch a reflection it's going knots as we're headed in any direction So press your head against the window, look outside at emptiness Tell a joke, or take a piss  Take a picture at every mile Lock the door and start the engine 'cause it's gonna be a while Tell a joke, take a piss Take a picture at every mile  Start the van, close the door, Quince I think it's gonna be a while The climates flay themselves, undress themselves at the side of the road Commute at the union between failure and hope Weave a highway line, stitch a skirt out on the land  Twist and turn, and tell a story like the palm of your hand Buckle up and wonder, keep watching the skies Pucker up and flounder in the blink of an eye The climates flay themselves, undress themselves at the side of the road  Commute at the union between failure and hope Turn our weakness into Turn our blindness into Turn our questions into answers as obvious  Turn our weakness into might Turn our blindness into sight Turn our questions into answers just as obvious As moonlight in the darkest, darkest night As moonlight in the darkest, darkest night