Under the Knife

Under the knife
Under the seventy lights bright
You wade in white

Breathing the room
Interning every last drop
Of the rays you give so strong

Half is the moon
Half is the gravity
You often seem so weightless
Spaced in time

You sigh the waking life

Islands away
Harks a refrain
From a dark stage
On the last train
The last train home

Wanting to move
Want to improve
How to exclude
What to remove...Is in the way