Smoggy october sea opens 
And the silent heat 
Of the birds is mine 
Everything's seen by the invicible stars 
Cold bits of fire 
Just nearby 
Wing moves along your thigh 
And the harbor's full of departures 
I count the months 
Like my memories 
Six white ones, six cold ones 
You cannot imagine numbers like that 
The whistle's like a dream 
And I have returned 
From the stars 
Wing moves along your thigh 
And the harbor's full of departures 
I count the months 
Like my memories 
Six white ones, six cold ones