There were skies streaked with heaven, in blue-flower corn
And time to live up to the day you were born
You don’t have to be perfect, you don’t have to be sane
Quietly keeping watch over the rain
We were all shooting rubber bands, aiming at the moon
Sure that someone’s bound to hit it pretty soon
There are ghosts of tennis ball husks crushed at the sun
And if you’re never seen again, it wouldn’t hurt anyone
And I couldn’t wait for the night to rush in, and live it all again
And things don’t have to be the way that they had really been
Now my boys both love lights, they think they’re all the same
Think they’re all just as pretty as they’re God-given name
You don’t have to be friendly, but you try to be kind
To starve out the harpies in the back of your mind
Now the people do seem to believe what they say
When you bust at the seams, it was for the best anyway
The language was strange, but the chanting was true
To regale in detail what’s in store for you
Now I can’t wait for the night to rush in, take me under again
I couldn’t wait for the start of the hymn
And the pretty lights dim
Like the light in the people I know