[Verse 1]
One thousand
Mourning doves
Are cooing like new mothers
Outside
My window
A single
Egg in my hand
Is worth more
Than a million
In the meadow
[Chorus]
The full
Potential of
A teardrop
Pre-drip
Is like love
Or like fight
Like the magic
Of the night
Unquantifiably
Progressing toward
Purest white
(Pure white)
Or a brown moth
[Verse 2]
Boring through
Dusty books
On high shelves where each book is
Someone’s
Heart reaching
For ceilings
Like the sound of
Every church
Choir singing
All together
[Chorus]
The full
Potential of
A teardrop
Pre-drip
Is like love
Or like fight
Like the magic
Of the night
Unquantifiably
Progressing toward
Purest white
(Pure white)
Or a brown moth