Microphones - Map

MAP

O the sand
O the spark
O the open land
O the swelling dark
O my hands
O my airy palms
O the lack
O my bending back
O the size
O my empty lap
but O my map
to distant foothills’ rise
Open hands
O the span
O the swelling sound over massive rounds

Written by:
Phillip Whitman Elverum

Publisher:
Lyrics © SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB.

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