Waiting for sun in the morning, my eyes on the ceiling, A fire of birds brilliantly burns. And the body knows before I know. And didn't we? didn't we pretend? Oh you and your christ kite caterwauling in the air Oh, coarse and feral And even so you let me go. I couldn't charm my way back to you. Oh, late lady night Oh, lake, lake at night Oh slouched ghosts of light And your storm shoulders bright in the bloomed lillac booms I pray for peace where the lampare cinders burned the trees Still I can half-see you. I can half-see you In yard in the rain in your wellington boots Where we danced like we were on fire Like the birds we spoke with fire We danced like we were all on fire...