on the bed of spilling skies
if the clouds just roll on by
we can sit on the grass
and listen to our whispers
lie
take a blade between your hands
blow and hear it scream
like a duck brought to slaughter
in the room where echoes live
haunting corpses composed of dust
blow and hear them scream
blow and hear them scream
do not touch me
i am old
when you come to this place
clouds roll on
sheets slipping off the bed
as if i never left
as if you never said
"let us
go then
you and i"
down where?
they all go down there
the same route left and right
some take longer
and some disappear
some last for one night
and some never come
some never leave
and some never wait
and what if?
can i take you with me
up to nowhere?
and what if?
can we just wander
and walk and watch
the clouds roll on?
will you come
if i have no wine
if i have no smoke
if i have nothing
but this bed here?
will you come
if i have nothing
but this bed here?
