There is no such thing as sound
in this cold tranquil place
where light is too busy to stop
and every movement is a drop
that could leave you in space
never again to be found

There is no such thing as sound
but you can feel your heart pound
with every mass ejection
that rushes your direction

In this cold tranquil place
the indiscretion of a star
can easily erase
any dreams you had thus far

Where light is too busy to stop
do not find yourself in its way
for there you can not stay
a storm to a nest in the treetops

And now I am space bound
listening for signs of grace
spinning like a damaged top
where light is too busy to stop.
In this cold tranquil place
there is no such thing as sound.