Reverse Moonlight from Parallel Skies by Henry Jones

The night’s got a way of bending the rules,
When the moon hangs upside down in the lake.
You swore you saw stars where the shadows pool,
But the ripples just laugh at the mistakes we make.
I walked backwards home through the old railroad tracks,
Where the lanterns still hum your name.
The air tastes like rain that won’t ever come back,
And the echoes are playing our blame.
Oh, reverse moonlight,
Show me the path where the lost things go.
I’d follow the glow of your pale afterlight,
But the dawn’s just a trick that the darkness knows.
The clock’s hands move like they’re dancing slow,
Spelling out time in a language we broke.
I wind it up tight, but it still lets you go,
Like a secret too heavy to choke.
Oh, reverse moonlight,
Turn back the tide in my bloodstream’s flow.
I’d trade every sunrise for one more goodnight,
But the sky’s just a screen where the old films show.
The porch swing still sways like you’re sitting there,
Though the chains have all rusted to brown.
I whisper your name, it dissolves in the air,
Like the salt in the wound of this ghost town.
Oh, reverse moonlight,
Paint me a door where the hinges don’t creak.
I’d step through the glass if the image was right,
But the light’s just a lie that the lonely seek.

• Alternative
• Experimental
• cinematic
• electronic
• instrumental
• metal
• Lisbon