Project yourself alive onto my corpse You loaned yourself to this land Of course, you had so much to give None of us are just and all I can speak about is the Miracle of being made to live I can believe in lots of ragged ends Loose, unsettling mends, thorny solutions Tremendous value in things not being clear The tension not settled here in absolution So, I smile a different way And I'm sometimes less afraid That therе might not be a God, then therе might We cultivate our unanswered questions and trust all will be Right like asphalt warm into the night