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Monday, 22 January 2007

because the light faded when it should have stayed bright

When at school, nowhere else but the space that was given
And those tighter moments, when the neurosis of the time
Made no more sense than the 70s were supposed to…

Three lines, two times, and once we had become
The glide of a hawk, the times when we captured
All the dreams that had been spinning around outside

And put them in a small leather bag, pressed in tight
So that we could save them for later
Hang on until it all felt right

Dreams are alive in my head now
Good and bad, sad and mad
Wanting to be regrets, urgent needs to do things now

And so I jump out of the plane, ask rather than waiting
Sing rather than whisper, let go rather than clutch
And think that it is all too much, too particular…