Winged/Wicked Things

Well I say it's just smoke
So you say it's the hair of ghosts
So I say it's the white hair of Poseidon
Ebbing in the tide in some dead sea

So you say it's some Shroud of Turin
And the sun wore it white and the earth wore it thin
Or the son wore it white and his faith wore it thin
Unraveling heavenward
It's saddled to tiny birds
Or other such winged things
Either way they are struggling
Either way they are miniature
Either way they're invisible
But either way they're confused
As Hell would have them

And the pattern of flight is chaotic and blind
But it's right cause chaos is yours and it's mine
And chaos is luck and luck: love and love: blind
The pattern of flight is chaotic and blind
But it's right cause chaos is yours and chaos is mine mine mine mine
And chaos is love and they say "love is blind"

But they're subject to hating us
Oh, just like the rest of us
Oh, but just like the best of us
They need the rest of us to stay alive
So that's not where confusion lies
That's not where an allusion to the fact that the truth
Is just smoke in your eyes does lie
No
Confusion lies in which other wicked thing to lie with
Confusion lies in which other wicked thing to lie with
And if chaos is yours, then chaos is mine
And chaos is love and they say "love is blind"

So I say oh, I see now, it's just smoke
So I say oh, I see now, it's just smoke
Oh I say oh, I see now, it's just smoke
Oh I say oh, I see now, it's just smoke