I would describe myself
As the landscape I buried
My mother's face
As she carried me
How her water raged and emptied
I would describe myself
As the colourfield I married
My New York pages
How they prepared my sheets
And the dirges caged and cared for me
Dry your eyes
Those tears are all you're given
It's no surprise now
Your heaven's what you're living in
Whenever autie moves around
Her dress makes a curious sound
They trail behind her up the floor
And trundle after through the door
(Sample from : Auntie's skirts - R.L. Stevenson)
Dry your eyes
Those tears are all you're given
It's no surprise now
Your heaven's what you're living in
Dry your eyes
Those tears are all you're given
It's no surprise now
Your heaven's what you're living in