By the song of satin plains
Pinking in the Westward sky
My rose-colored windows
Face the same sky as you
Believe me when I say
And take trust as truth
Home is just where we’re headed
And right where we are
I want the crook of your spine
Like the bend of the oak
Over lilies and lampposts
Who can't outshine your stars
Bare feet on silvered pine
Sing me through your shadow
Cradle light in cupped palms
Knowing this one is for you.