|
Heart, heart in your mouth, hand on the paper |
|
The new work that you found |
|
The gift of your depression weighs you down, down, down, down |
|
Then, when you wake for the sixth straight day with a Tanqueray |
|
You will rise, rise again, and drink again |
|
Hurtle hurtle over the breach |
|
Let your body fall out of reach |
|
On the day that you find your thirties have left you childless |
|
Remember when you meet your coupled friends with unease: |
|
The world will forget all the good they have done |
|
And the world will forget all the good you have done |
|
Hurtle hurtle over the breach |
|
Let your body fall out of reach |
|
Out of house, out of thought, out of your mind |
|
Lay your head, lay your heart next to mine |
|
And try to admit that you might have it wrong |
|
And when you admit that you might have it wrong |
|
Thunderhead, thunderhead |
|
I will be your riverbed |
