Modern Arts of the Hospice House - Gatherers

I wanna lie in your bed and ‘X' out the days

Until your waves crash

Until your frame snaps

You’ll say

«It's all okay;

I want you to cave in with me»

Miles away and in between

It’s all the same

Subtle dying

You lie awake, forget to breathe

It’s all the same, constant fighting

Infect us with a hope you can’t deprive

In this worldwide quarantine

In this homeless shelter we struck up a slow dance

A cold empty cup in the shiver of your hand

Drags along a wired fence

I laid in your bed today, rusting away

I felt the same

The subtle dying