An inquisition to toss you in your sleep: My lovely i could see your feigns from here I took my wallet but i meant to leave my keys I cursed the wooden panels creaking screams Oh, and you said, there's buried gold And the tigers wait for us! Now the summer grass will move here As they lick their chops for blood. I left the beach house and i saw a thousand lights A part of every shell that weathered waves The moon in labor as it birthed a silver earth And all the while warring nervous saints