The Paintress

On a ladder up to the firmament
She’s nearing the top
Balancing over us below
Again she’s out of stock
Reach the clouds, into the fog
An offering they bleed
Heavens mining paint
For her fantasies
She gathers up the mist
She’s opening our skies
Her fate is to draw the missing beat of hearts
In a chamber full of stillborn ones
She paints them in dismay
I force myself to believe
They’re just slumbering
Too horrid for my tenderness
Too horrid I can’t take
A hundred drying ashen faces
Using only grey
She gathers up the mist
She’s opening our skies
Her fate is to draw the missing beat of hearts
She’s the paintress
She’s the paintress
She’s the paintress
She gathers up the mist
She’s opening our skies
She’s the paintress
Her fate is to draw the missing beat of hearts, o-o-oh…
She gathers up the mist, she’s opening our skies
Her fate is to draw the missing beat of hearts
She gathers up the mist, she’s opening our skies
Her fate is to draw the missing beat of hearts