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The kids are asleep in the garden
As the world declines to agree
And brings their guns to point blank range
Their sleeping heads are filled with dreams
That will never come
that will never live at point blank range
Lying to ourselves
that we can't still believe
in questions and answers that don't come with exceptions
Of the truth and bursting hope
the size of a small fist
Grabbing for things too high still to reach
The sun digs its fingers into the wavy sand
and steals the heat as it rises and declines, rises and declines
The kids are asleep in the garden   As the world declines to agree   And brings their guns to point blank range   Their sleeping heads are filled with dreams   That will never come   that will never live at point blank range   Lying to ourselves   that we can't still believe   in questions and answers that don't come with exceptions   Of the truth and bursting hope   the size of a small fist   Grabbing for things too high still to reach   The sun digs its fingers into the wavy sand   and steals the heat as it rises and declines, rises and declines