When the moon brings the silver back down Through the islands, the sky, and the branches The end is always beginning When the moon brings the silver back down To the concert of wings in the clearing Keep the choruses coming When the moon brings the silver back down in the dirt there are worlds upon words where we guess that the glimmers fumbling onto your side, cross the line Cold in the veins, your hands in mine When the moon brings the silver back down As the tigers strike waves in the shadows When the moon brings the silver back down beside on the streets where we speak through machines My mouth full of marbles, tumbling onto your side, cross the line Cold in the veins, your hands in mine I'll take your side, cross the line You take my side, cross the line When the moon brings the silver back down In the pasture where folks still sleep standing We become what we're seeing When the moon brings the silver back down in the dirt there are worlds upon words where we guess that the glimmers crashing down onto your side, cross the line Cold in the veins, hands in mine I'll take your side, cross the line You take my side, cross the line