I fear the lost art

The sculptor of the dark heart

Who tells me to play my part?

One hundred miles apart

I fear the dark art

Of the sculptor of the lost heart

Who tells me how to make the ark,

When we’re one hundred miles apart

I wish I knew

The painter of the chroma-key

Or the writer of the sea

To ask, “Could you recreate this scene for me?”

What I see, I can not hear

What I hear, I can not see

I’m engaged to what I fear

And divorced from the lovely key

It doesn’t matter

If you’re on the other side of the door 

It might as bee 100 miles

Because I have no key to free anymore

That’s why I fear

The blackness in outer space

Between the lights I might lose my place

Where all life is erased

The distance is growing

But it might as well be 100, a million, a galaxy apart

Because I’m practicing lost art

And sculpting the dark heart

As my love which swallows my fear