from The Claire Bitch Project
* Too bad in the sun the story is the same over here they try it again That’s all alright perfectly the same old time twice on the wind Outside the plane silently overhead What are you doing? this swing is Warm prick the old fire This space all over is Quiet for some reason fast over there Come back Don’t stop in the At the same time i’m leaving How to accommodate this big as ever Expand to fit you and you are all the space There was never Outside i’m waiting for help Your hand over my mouth My head Next press into me I’m on the only road I’m some monster I’m about to run out into the dark I’m a dark top And the talk is the problem Once around twice The pressure suspends on what freed it the sound goes somewhere * somewhere and it’s back cover your hot head The sun on the outside of your room the sky in disarray The rock on the roof you’re some other Creature distant sin Sane now the red spirit moves faster Wind picks up Face together the wind And i said on the other side i’m red and i’m waiting for to grow I’m a brick in the distant weather you don’t want to change You don’t want to say you said that but it comes back As you move you move so slow you move So much more than me * at the end you start to move Forward and he’s back in the white car In the dirt on your road before we never had enough time and now the spirit is moving to the other side That’s a little rabbit on the road That’s a little bit more that you expected The morning on the other Fasting getting small in your eye Getting small before bigger things come out to get it The other little special other on the road to your home That i can feel you behind me the reason you check over your shoulder and the light comes on you’re here take this hand against my mouth my face a little wider than expected Than expect we come together too often not breaking things out my window My widow on the mend in the bend in the river that’s an elbow On the shoulder And my left eye can look back I think you don't expect me and i’m here On the other hand it’s getting later The thing i stop having to my pleasure bad things on the other end And bad little creature my head I can’t hear you anymore I can’t hear where you’re moving to But i feel the whole place shake again under my feet the grass grows even through dirt Even in the white light and the landscape is always the same The static coming Louder Phone and book after book about time Water was toxic and dust was kicking up and the town left for another town and we are here now Making a little image of it