Wings of Fire

In a few days she’ll be back, wrapped inside a thunderstorm and with wings made of fire.

She’ll visit me in that garden where we first met — under the tree with no name and leaves heavy with iron.

And together we’ll drink the venom that bleeds from the tree, and which turns Eden into a dying mire.

Then I, too, will get my wings and together we will fly. High into the heavens where mortals go to die.

3 LIBRAS (PERFECT CIRCLE SONG)

Threw you the obvious and you flew with it on your back, 

A name in your recollection, down among a million same.
Difficult not to feel a little bit disappointed, and passed over 
When I’ve looked right through, see you naked but oblivious. 

And you don’t see me.

But I threw you the obvious, just to see if there’s more behind the 
Eyes of a fallen angel, eyes of a tragedy.
Here I am expecting just a little bit too much from the wounded
But I see, see through it all, see through, see you.

‘Cause I threw you the obvious, to see what occurs behind the 
Eyes of a fallen angel, eyes of a tragedy, oh well. 

Oh well, apparently nothing. 
Apparently nothing, at all.

You don’t, you don’t, you don’t, see me. 
You don’t, you don’t, you don’t, see me.
You don’t, you don’t, you don’t, see me.
You don’t see me.
You don’t, you don’t, you don’t see me at all.