Our Moons

Devils are walking amongst us
And the only thing left to believe
Is to believe

We are here
Trading skeletons for skeletons
Trying to lighten the load
Because Hell doesn't wait for you to die
To bring you home

Sometimes we wonder
Are our moons for sale?
Are our moons in high demand
Or have they become surpluses?

While we prepare for our last meal
We take our shot at building our paradises
A little bubble, a little refuge
So fragile, so beautiful, so irrational
A gold-leafed imprint of a diamond

The moon belongs to everyone
Like the Sun, the day, and the night
And it's looking to play

If we must drink blood
Might as well pour it in the holy grail