So, this is not the year I break ground
My script burns instead on the scaffold
Follow the sun wherever it goes
I make my home, in a high wind
If I stay on the ground, nothing awaits me
I would die in sunlight or resonate
Follow the sun wherever it goes
I make my home, in a high wind
Enshrine these dreams in a golden grave
Forever carve their wane into the mountain face
If I fall down
I will crawl on
If I die, I die
