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[ti:L-Dopa] |
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[ar:Laura Stevenson] |
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[al:Wheel] |
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[offset:0] |
[00:25.24] |
I'm a bright, white egg |
[00:28.10] |
And I incubate in a warm, yellow light in the winter. |
[00:37.35] |
And I'll hatch on a snow-covered morning, |
[00:42.84] |
And no one will be awake to see it happen. |
[00:48.36] |
There is no history, |
[00:51.92] |
There's no expectation, |
[00:56.16] |
Just warm, yellow light on my skin. |
[01:02.50] |
And I'm blessed by my mother, |
[01:05.92] |
Though I'll never know her, |
[01:09.11] |
And I'll never be lonesome again. |
[01:42.73] |
I'm a bright entertainer in a silent theater |
[01:48.68] |
I wearily quarry into. |
[01:54.93] |
And my mother she stands |
[01:57.65] |
Where the characters dance |
[02:00.97] |
From the light at the height of the room. |
[02:06.72] |
And every night I repeat the phrases, |
[02:13.23] |
Just to see if she predicts the changes. |
[02:19.93] |
And I'd die for a word |
[02:22.48] |
If it's all she'd afford |
[02:25.45] |
But she closes up knowing it. |
[02:58.61] |
Where I am |
[03:05.11] |
Is right at the beginning of it, |
[03:11.91] |
All I know I was born with. |
[03:24.88] |
Where she is, |
[03:30.71] |
She is fixed in a prison so fast she is frozen, |
[03:37.53] |
The air she breathes is a slow wind. |
[03:51.08] |
I'm a tired arachnid, |
[03:53.15] |
Spinning loose in my threads, |
[03:56.88] |
Building lifetimes of gossamer beds. |
[04:03.18] |
And the filigree waterdrops around my head, |
[04:09.59] |
They absorb every word that I said. |
[04:14.56] |
There are no wings hitched to my spine, |
[04:23.09] |
Just an undying urge to climb. |
[04:29.68] |
And I'll wait for my mother, |
[04:33.23] |
Supposing she'd bother |
[04:35.80] |
To hold me and keep me a while. |
[04:42.31] |
To hold me and keep me a while. |
[04:51.55] |
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