When the owl breaks the light beam in a nights dream ride. Am I seeing in slow, am I driving too fast for the sound To finally break past time spent following straight lines to death. Behind my eyes in a parallel sky The belongs in the shapes in the clouds Try to take me to the grounded ones skyward There's a fog that casts a planetary haze To hide the white lined aggression in our eyes. in a season of collapsed lungs, There's a dark holiday And we are following straight lines to death