The myth is neither here nor there, from the air It's just blue lake stained and green And purified and parcelled squares It's a quilt of spearmint and mustard and honey tone A scuffed-up kitchen floor And tiles on top of bones with a big trap door Towns down diagonal lines Disappear and drop out of sight Into the night Beyond the endless night (the Starpainters are taking over now) And underneath the grit and glare (the scaffolding is) In the unfettered nothingness (in its place) Of thin air (your anaesthesiol-) Herds of clouds lazily graze (-ogist tonight, is) On thermal sighs of delight (washing up, she's on her way) The Starpainters are taking over now The scaffolding is in its place Your anaesthesiologist tonight Is washing up, and on her way