Thru the journey of the days and the map of the hour, I was born right at
the tip of the scales in the balance of this impotent power, I’m always
nose to the grindstone full of some kind of moody perfection, I’m an earth
heart muse lover connected to some kind of disconnection.
The moon in virgo, I’m my own worst enemy, not because I don’t know,
but because I cant break free.
Every beast has a nature and every angel has a gods eye view, but until
you find your wings what’s a poor little beast to do, I always feel like I’m
waiting for some little miracle to push me all the way into the light, I
don’t know what the hell is wrong but I can tell you all 841.9 things that
The moon in virgo, rising in the twelfth house, a secret hero, deft hands
in a virgin’s blouse.
I feel like I was born with a purpose but I guess I’ll just die by the clock, if
my sleep dreamed any deeper I could pass right thru solid rock, and I
don’t want to be the master but I can no longer play the slave, and I don’t
want anything I could name but all I seem to do is crave.
The moon in virgo, take me in a lovers rush, hide in moon-glow, lose me
in the mystic crush.