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The American Scene



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The American Scene

Dark Creak

From the bottom to the top,
From the water to the drop.
No I wasn't permanent,
I was made for this end

From the comedown to the climb
Through a window then the vine
No I wasn't afraid of it,
There was never anything to be empty of

Are you sick, or are you well?
Are we in heaven, or is this hell?
No I wasn't permanent,
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I was made for this end

My shins then my shoulders,
My sleepwalker focus
Cold creeping current
Dark creak, dark creak

Are you sick, or are you well?
Are we in heaven, or is this hell?
No I wasn't permanent,
I was made for this end, dark creak