Slack

Let the bird sing, let the bird fly. One day the man in the moon went home and the river went dry. Let the bird sing, let the bird fly. The man in the moon went home and the river went dry.

The foreign sun, it squints upon. A bed that is never mine. As friends and other strangers. From their fates try to resign. Leaving men wholly, totally free. To do anything they wish to do but die. And there are no trials inside the Gates of Eden.

All I know is that I’m thrilled by your kiss. I don’t know any more than this. Poor boy, pickin’ up sticks. Build ya a house out of mortar and bricks.