I’m sure this was the place
The house of God
With its flat tin roof
And ample parking space
And its one oak knotted as a psalm
I’m sure this was the place
The brown couch lawn
And old hoist crooked
Ever slightly as a crow
The one garment pending the fall
Hmm, like our fathers before
And their fathers before them too
Hmm, I have stared into space
Till everything looked brand new
I’m sure this was the place
A salt-licked caravan
Wild sprawling figs coursed
With their slow adrenaline
And the idling engine of the sea
Hmm, like our fathers before
And their fathers before them too
Hmm, I have stared into space
Till everything looked brand new
But I’m sure this was the place
I’m sure this was the place
The trickle river’s end
Ferns written deep in the rocks
Like withered open hands
And the one swimmer with a belly full of fall
Hmm, like our fathers before
And their fathers before them too
Hmm, I have stared into space
Till everything looked brand new
But I’m sure this was the place
There we were
There we were
The feeling gathered 'round
Like ants to fallen candy
I was a man with no sight
A photo in my fingers
Worn and thumbed and creased
Could you have swept up this town
And held it in one palm of your hands
And you, like me, go out wondering
Just which pocket to put it in?
There we were
There we were
The feeling gathered round
Like colored candy paper
I was the man with no sound
Our voices on the ceiling
Trying to coalesce
Could you have wrapped up this town
And felt it in the creases of your hands
And you, like me, go out wondering
Just which pocket to put it in?
You have taken down every door, like me
You have slept on every floor, like me
You've got thinner by the weight of things
A no-sleeper in the wake of things
Just like me
There we were
There we were
In a city gathered 'round
Like moths in paper lanterns
I was a man without touch
You offered me a feeling
Warm, and thin and creased
Could you have crushed up this town
And sieved it through the hole in your hands
And you, like me, go out wondering
Just which pocket to put it in?
The Byzantine is falling
Like it always does
And Guernica is always burning
On the pages and postcards and walls
And the phone keeps ringing
And the envelopes steadily grow
And the history man
In the glow of his lamp
Will wait for the moment to go
In 1912, beyond this balcony
There were factories and dirt lanes and cows
Picture the people with their sole pair of shoes on
Dreaming of days such as now
And his daughter keeps calling
And his wife just once a year
And the history man
With pencil in hand
Will wait till it all becomes clear
In Egypt they mastered the art of embalming
And the kings are still asking him why
As he peers at their perfect and leathery faces
Their every last inch itemised
And on birthdays, another new memoir
From the hands of a hesitant child
And the history man
Will retire to his den
And come back when it all becomes past
What do we do with all these shells
Women and men of the wards?
Feet that barely touch the floors
Bedside vigils waning
Sentences remaining
Embedded in abandoned find-a-words?
The sweeping lines
Of disinfectant gray
The sure chirping of machines
That never goes away
What do we do with all these shells
Men and women of the floors?
Tucked in tightly and borne on wheels
Every day is nightly
The flowers are like lightning
Bright before the sound of things to say
The soft shoe shuffle
And clattering of trays
The steady hand of medics
Who haven’t slept for days
What do we do with all these shells
Curled and bearing echoes of themselves?
The gowns and curtains all look the same
The city view is stunning
Someone out there is running
To move their car before
It’s towed away
I step out of The Pines
The breeze hugs me like an old friend
Those nettled floors
And a hush that's grown so tall
Get behind me
Go behind me
I stumble out from The Pines
The scent of flowers flooding down my spine
Heady and strange and heavy on my tongue
I'm glad you've found me
I'm glad you have found me
Every turn was a right one
In that cathedral of trees
There were whispers left in corners
Buried to their knees
So I'm glad that you've found me
So glad you have found me
I limp out from The Pines
That simple road before me like a curled strong arm
The needle sheets still pinned in my heels
Get behind me
Fall behind me
There were times I saw the sunlight
White like a forbidden rose
Glaring in through a parting
Of straight and bony twigs and their cones
So I'm glad that you've found me
I'm glad you have found me
I step out from The Pines
A peal of sparrowsong arrests my shaking limbs
Your face is fallow but I know you by your clothes
And I'm glad you've found me
So glad you have found me
Every day was the last one
In that cathedral of trees
I held my breath from the first one
And was keeping it aside just for thee
So I’m glad that you found me
So glad you have found me