The Crossing

Maps on the back of your hands point to the cross

Scratches on walls in a room draw out your loss

Your islands are conquered and

You are returned to the throne

Martyrs take penance and

Fill up the mattress with stones

Pull straws with holy men

Stain all the atlas pink

And let us find a beach

Where we can cross our hearts

Stand in the wind as the carousels spin

Wear out your welcome again

Stand on the silence of mountains and

Wear out your welcome again

Mornings hit hard with an uncontrollable light

Piercing the senses that click deep in the night

Crouched in a pillow of straw feet on the floor

Creeping a path to the mat that holds back the door

Pull straws with holy men

Stain all the atlas pink

And let us find a beach

Where we can cross our hearts

Build up great railways that run

Through the horns of the moon

Hold up a city with cast iron museum walls

Explain your machines to the boys feed them with tools

Bring out the skill in your skin polish your hair

Pull straws with holy men

Stain all the atlas pink

And let us find a beach

Where we can cross our hearts

Stand in the wind as the carousels spin

Wear out your welcome again

Stand on the silence of mountains

And take a look down to the sea

Stand in the wind as the carousels spin

Wear out your welcome again

Stand on the silence of mountains

And take a look down to the sea