Falling Asleep - The Clientele

Voices nude in the quiet house

Something, a muffle shining on us

Something in the night is on

The smell in blue

Clouded with it, whispering

A crossing park

A little crowded house

Like blooming flowers

A line red raising

Now heaven’s cold

Render the violet home

Little girls falling asleep

Of the past that looks at us

Bring it in, fall asleep like you’re from the far side

Bees, where do daemons dream the pilgrim dreams

News day, of what you believe

Someone singing a song about a soldier

What happened two miles ago

And so the sun will be last night

Now the beauty slings across my brain

I can’t watch the margin of my soldier

Turn their faces, faces

Faceless, faceless

The heavens are my own