This side of the window is safe but lonely
This side of the window is for my eyes only
Oh black seagull wings and precious feathered things
Flutter in the tombs of my shadow
And nameless small things crawl into the space
Where the shrunken head of the infinite wren sings
And whistle spring time into the hollow of its bleeding
It is a twisted vine that turns within the kernel of truth
What strength it takes not to split or feed it....
On this side of the window where I have no need for moon glow
Oh this side of the window where I'm free to let the tears flow down
On this simple painted face of the clown who floats instead of drowns
The planet of my soul exploded into a thousand tiny pieces
I hold them together with nothing but brown paper and tape to stick it
How can I explain I hold my form with nothing but will power and spirit
That the mind is a Tiger but the body is nothing but flesh to feed it
All life long
But I'm down to bone and songs
And there isn't long
To try and fix it...
