The Birds

The science of your days
Is laid bare
Boiling In the Sun
For all the World to see

The birds remind me of what we made
The birds remind me of what remains


Helen Of Troy

Your face is the place
Where it ends

I begin
Get again
With your face
Bad at the end
At the end

Follow me in the car
Of the bridge
We want go far

Down we go
Down below
To the end
To the end

At the end
I’ll see your face
Once again
Until then

I Made A Tree On The Wold

Branch by branch
it came together

leaf by leaf
for stormy weather

You Are The Worst Thing In The World
I know
that you’re an ocean
After the storm has come
To stay

I know
that you’re the silence
After the sound has gone away

I know
that just the smallest
Part of the world belongs
To me

You know
I am not a blind man
(but) truth is the hardest thing
To see

I know
That you’re the worst thing
In all of the world
For me

I know
That you’re the worst thing
In all of the world
For me

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