Clean Telecaster twinkles through the dusk air
P-bass pulses slow like a heartbeat bare
Splash cymbal catches on the humid stair
You fold your program like a paper prayer
You watch the moth come undone thread by thread
Paris rooftops stretch out quiet and red
Your alto breath holds the hymn that you fled
Pale wings unravel where the terrace led
The moth arrives on velvet dusted wing
Its pale geometry a broken thing
You count the verses that you used to sing
While Paris rooftops hum a low drone string
You watch the moth come undone thread by thread
Paris rooftops stretch out quiet and red
Your alto breath holds the hymn that you fled
Pale wings unravel where the terrace led
Your fingers trace the groove where alto sat
The choir robe smell — wax and incense fat
You left the nave but kept the breathing pattern
Now moth wings fray on stones that split and shatter
No amen needed for this coming apart
Just Telecaster clean and P-bass heart
The moth gives up its ghost — a quiet art
You breathe the hymn you wrote inside the dark
You hum the descant that the rector hated
While moth performs its exit uncreated
No hallelujah rises unabated
Just Paris rooftops where the light abated
You watch the moth come undone thread by thread
Paris rooftops stretch out quiet and red
Your alto breath holds the hymn that you fled
Pale wings unravel where the terrace led
The terrace holds its breath between two worlds
Where choir chords meet math-rock flag unfurled
You smile the way a cynic smiles at pearls
Pale wings dissolve where the night wind swirls
You watch the moth come undone thread by thread
Paris rooftops stretch out quiet and red
Your alto breath holds the hymn that you fled
Pale wings unravel where the terrace led
Pale wings unravel where the terrace led
Telecaster fades on one last arpeggio
You walk away — no encore no ego
