|
All the vegetation in the settled world is stirring |
|
I'm blurring into sun-burnt and heartbroken worrying |
|
About how the day took such a long time to die |
|
When it was reeking of women I once had on my side |
|
But now that I've found another smell to believe in |
|
I'm buzzing like hell just to hope I can breathe it |
|
And resurrect the simplistic calm in some eyes |
|
That are trying to find you or |
|
Bury your nightmind |
|
And it will take |
|
Time. |
|
Oh, your tongue and the twilight marina |
|
When so young and brave and still dreaming |
|
Getting to know you lash by dark lash |
|
The rooms where you sleep in |
|
The floors where you crash |
|
And gas-stations are pleasantly blowing |
|
Thunder rolls for dresses you're wearing |
|
On a body so unknowing |
|
Of what that blowing's for our preparing |
|
And patience is never affording |
|
When prettiness and sweetness are pouring |
|
Out from you and |
|
Onto me and |
|
Dampness of sweat is the sweetest recording |
|
And you can lay with your head on my body |
|
The worlds of the night and disease try to rob me |
|
All the vegetation in the settled world is stirring |
|
But stillness and calmness are all that I'm hearing |
|
Now |
|
And it will take |
|
Time. |
|
But time is for hearts that don't know what they're eating |
|
And nerves that don't spend every night-chance retreating. |
