I would describe myself as the landscape I buried
My mother's face, as she carried me
How her water raged and emptied
Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given
It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in
I would describe myself as the colourfield I married
My New York pages, how they prepared
My sheets and the dirges caged and cared for me
Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given
It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in
"whenever auntie moves around her dress makes a curious sound they trail behindher up the floor and trundle after through the door." (auntie's skirts-R.L.Stevenson)
Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given
It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in
Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given
It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in