7. Noise On the Air
Shadow on shadow, it whispers its name
and I strain to hear the sound
of soft falling snow on November’s swampy ground.
Leading me on through the early gloaming hours,
promising more than tomorrow.
I listen to half-hidden truths as twilight unfolds.
It unfolds.
It’s the noise on the air
the wide open leap,
the dawn of the night,
that keeps me from sleep
The rush of the wave,
the push of the beat,
the quickening pulse,
that pulls me in deep.
Pulls me in deep.
Maybe the dimming removes the noon’s distractions
focusing on the unseen:
one single rose in a field of black velvet dream.
Down comes the curtain and up swells the chorus,
silence and stillness invade.
Taunted with glimpses of truth, I open my soul.
Oh, my soul.
It’s the noise on the air
the wide open leap,
the dawn of the night,
that keeps me from sleep
The rush of the wave,
the push of the beat,
the quickening pulse,
that pulls me in deep.
Pulls me in deep.
No matter how faithfully I heed the calling,
I can hear noise on the air.
Shadow on shadow, it whispers its name
and I strain to hear the sound
of soft falling snow on November’s swampy ground.
Leading me on through the early gloaming hours,
promising more than tomorrow.
I listen to half-hidden truths as twilight unfolds.
It unfolds.
It’s the noise on the air
the wide open leap,
the dawn of the night,
that keeps me from sleep
The rush of the wave,
the push of the beat,
the quickening pulse,
that pulls me in deep.
Pulls me in deep.
Maybe the dimming removes the noon’s distractions
focusing on the unseen:
one single rose in a field of black velvet dream.
Down comes the curtain and up swells the chorus,
silence and stillness invade.
Taunted with glimpses of truth, I open my soul.
Oh, my soul.
It’s the noise on the air
the wide open leap,
the dawn of the night,
that keeps me from sleep
The rush of the wave,
the push of the beat,
the quickening pulse,
that pulls me in deep.
Pulls me in deep.
No matter how faithfully I heed the calling,
I can hear noise on the air.