Those who stayed can never leave. The moon is setting earlier. If she crawls clear, I'll hear her cry. And then I can take my baby home. We'll walk the tidelines that understand when loved ones return but are careful to walk in the shadows of clouds moving in.
Small fires mark the narrow channel.
If there's no one left awake we'll take our places undisturbed. The passing freighter won't see us. The moon's setting over the canyon wall. And in cutaway barns Where the walls go only up as high As the stalls. He shoots and dies And lives to shoot and die again.