from the wreck of the arknto the fading day of our starnthe light racesnthe light dragsnthe moon risesnthe moon sagsnover the rolling wavesnand your hands on the balconynas a spinenpricks the worldnand the shudder, deep, is unheard,nbut you feel itnoh my godnas the spindlenflies apartnturn your bow to the biggest wave,nbut your angel's on holidaynand that wave rises slowlynand breaks.