Take my survivor and hold it to the moon
Red in my hands and seeing double again
Mary and her shepherd man
Holding hands on the shore’s soft edge
The Chancellor and his Frankiphone
Perfect for you to see reflections again
Lost in to depths of softness
Splashing in moonlight
And my hands keep turning red
As I pull you into the moon
All I ever have and all I ever need
And this is everything I can give
Smoke veins to clear my edge
So will you follow me as my survivor
Though paths the moon discovers?