Must be fate’s colossal strokes
colouring more,
colouring more
shades into the swarm of senses,
breach the surface:
foam and waves
can’t wait to
hold you.

Let me swim for burning circles.
Be my sunken temple,
fathoms under.
Be my,
be my error.
Be my,
be my error.
Be my,
be my error.

Must be fate’s colossal strokes
colouring more,
colouring more
shades of wild and sweet resurgence,
breach the surface:
foam and waves
can’t wait to
hold you.

Let me swim for burning circles.
Be my sunken temple,
fathoms under.
Be my,
be my error.