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