101010

101010 - Sleeping At Last

Hold your breath and count to 28

Change is slow but I feel it taking shape

Folding over us like waves

On origami ocean tides we sway

Blueprints constantly being rearranged

Over microscopes we plan and strain

The finest print in the whitest ink

Before it dries there's no time

An if feels like everything we've known is sink or swim

The grey is not a compromise

It le is bridge between two sides

I would even argue that it is color

That most represents God's eyes

Hold your breath and count to 29

Connect the dots and cherish every line

Paper cuts and trails aside

Make a wish and hold it high

This time we'll try our very hardest not to try

'Cause grey is not a compromise

It is the bridge between two sides

The shores on which our stubborn

And restless seas collide

Grey is not just middle ground

Is it truce that waits to be signed

I I would even argue that from where we stand

It most represents the color of God's eyes

Uf fold our atlas is ange into paper planes

Change is slow but I feel it taking shape