White Sheet Lightning

In starts up the staircase, in fits to the room
As swathes of ocean meet, melt and form again
In measures colours decrease in the steam
As in my roof-top white sheet lightning dream

Catacomb village, sandlewood your skin
I’m your tether’s end, you’re my everything
Oh honey biscuits, when I sensed you’d outdone me
Could have forged up the mountain, I left for the forgery

Striking a claim for us, apply the flame to us, softly
It’s a delicate business, and you know just how to charge me
Is that something taking shape, is that something taking flight? 
So carried away, lightening, sheets of white