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On Chapel Slope

Steven Wilson

I sketch you wandering in soft veiled gold and the seated crown
Now that your vision is nightshade heavy, lay down
The smiling dead
You said it all with your rooftop tongue in our mouths
Snowed on by all the winding sheets they discard
To be reborn

I drew you rolling down bright-lit tiles on chapel slope
Your newfound friends dressed as angels lie down the rope
The smiling dead
You said it all with your gutter tongue in our mouths
But anyway
Climb up the ladders of winding sheets you discard
To be reborn

(You'll stay with us, as stones evermore)
(You'll stay with us, as stones evermore)
(You'll stay with us, as stones evermore)