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I saw a sparrow peck a bone I heard the beak against a stone I saw a swallow swallowing flies Above a lake in the Poconos There was a black bear on a hillside There was a bee sting and a blushing bride I saw four swallows all swooping low Under a bridge in the countryside I wanted the Four Corners I wanted the south of France I wanted the family, I wanted the dance I was the Guildenstern to your Rosencrantz I wanted Los Angeles, I wanted Montana I wanted the mountains and I wanted the shore I wanted mountains carved into my arms I never meant you any harm I saw the rose and the mother hips I tasted something bitter on your lips I saw your hair burn bright with flames You told me you were tired of the games The car was stuck sunk in a ditch Swung and struck out on the final pitch The year was lost, I was your burning book All the poems you wrote, the dirty looks I wanted the Four Corners I wanted the south of France I wanted the family and I wanted the dance I was Guildenstern to your Rosencrantz I wanted Los Angeles, I wanted Montana I wanted the mountains and I wanted the shore I wanted mountains carved into my arms I never meant you any harm I saw your hair burn full of fire I heard you telling me that you were tired Each night I'm haunted by the freckled skin I saw you carving lines into your thigh I saw the blood stain on the sheets I'm haunted by the way you moved your feet Across my floor when you would dance away You always liked to leave marks with your teeth Is that all there is? Is that all there is? Is that all there is? Is that all there is? Is that all there is to a fire?