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The Missing Season
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Morning Moon
When you're ready I am ripe pluck me down from your sky
A good harvest for a calm chest, a blank page, a realm to ride.
I'm called the morning moon, through all those nights we toiled,
Here we are, morning moon, one last look then I'll go.
Through the mysteries in the woods, through what they call misleading roads
All this chasing, this dreaming, all those days…
I'm called the morning moon, through all those nights we toiled,
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Here we are, morning moon, one last look then I'll go.
Ripe, fulfilled
So in your chest stirs my breath, on the rooftops when you jump.
Don't ask me for a wish, just go to what you have.
I'm called the morning moon, what I say you know it by heart.
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