Through Me (The Flood)

Picture a man
Seen like a speck out from the shore
Swimming out beyond the breakers like he's done his life before
He feels the coming of a squall will drag him out a greater length
But knows his strength
And tries to gather it

And he swims on
Turning back to shore again
Above the outer atmosphere of a world he's never seen
And looking down to his new home, he feels the rising of a wave
And knows at once he will not weather it

Like that man
I looked down into the depths when I met you
I couldn't measure it

Any time I've struggled on
Against the course
Out on my own
Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see
That the world, it burns through me
But when I'd let go
My struggling form
My willing soul
Every time I'd flow through the world, I'd see
That the world, it flows through me
That the world, it flows through me

Picture a grave
Picture six feet freshly dug
The sharp temporary walls at the long-term cliff edge of the world
Light and air find some new deepness there and usher down the sky
Where one stands by and tries make sense of it

But try measure loss
Measure the silence of a house
The unheard footsteps at the doorway
The unemployment of the mouth
The waking up, having forgotten
And remembering again the full extent of what forever is

With each grave
I think of loss
And I can only think of you
And I couldn't measure it

Any time I've struggled on
Against the course
Out on my own
Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see
That the world, it burns through me
But when I'd let go
My struggling form
My willing soul
Every time I'd flow through the world, I'd see
That the world, it flows through me
That the world, it flows through me