Low Slow

Out from the tunnel you walk
All with rungs of bulbs surrounding you like golden laurels
You chalk your hands and you clap clouds

You move deliberately
All smooth and deep are your steps to your stairs
Lend impossible cares as you stand and wait
For the glare to fade

But I'm already poison-leaden
Line with finery the wire you walk
The wire you walk

All in war paint the audience is patient
So they can say that they were there the day you took your spill

And the net’s escape
The fastest way
But the best of them
Is the last of them

Their woolen suits are lined with fruit for you
But they never said that it ain't for you alone

So I say you should just grace them with your old fantastic
Amaze them with your old fantastic
And brace yourself and fall into the air