Chains stretch the great lake around you Pull you along by the knots in your hair It's just like you'd never been there Cold tooth and ice scattered islands Faithfully facing the warmth of the sun All to the quickening dawn Fever on the thorough-way brow The sober scent of paper Teething cries in what the rain hides Where not enough to save you Faith is a race from the silence Widens and swallows you Head first and whole Fight through the whitening bones Secede while you can while you're able Sorrow may tap at the root of your song Light sparks the opening bomb Fever on the thorough-way brow The sober scent of paper Teething cries in what the rain hides Where not enough to save you Every ache is dissolved in the brine And the waves from the bay and then rise But the shark ridden garden will run dry again