The Moon is a Puller by Twinbird Lyrics

The Moon is a puller
you are the hand of a ghost

Cut the spilling wordsong so that
My pen cauterizes with the morning breath

Bleeding hearts in bloom

Your cursive curving shadow is enough
to make yourself alive

You know that it's not too late to make something real
But it might be too soon to stop reaching

And out in the distance I can see a small blue light
Getting bigger all the time, when the shadows in my room stop
Hanging around, I'll be waiting there with this grounding unworldliness
knowing that not knowing is better than waiting cinematically