A hand above and a hand below,
To steal their stars and stunt their growth.
Beneath the earth, the hidden lie,
Our hands descend while they reach high
Whose line is it that I must tow?
____________________________
On the other side they beckon to go,
Their rise deep down, the difference unknown.
Shall I follow their path? Face up, down low.
Whose line is it that I must tow?
____________________________
Down there, they're lost. Like mice in a maze
They scathe and they steal under Death's weary gaze
Yet still, as they look, their aim looks on high
Where their dreams begin, ours have long since died
Whose line is it that I must tow?
____________________________
Birthed with eyes that cast down; we've never asked why.
"Divine, our blood", they claim, and they lie.
If down there are the bees, then up here, the beehive.
We are the hands that steal the sky.
