7.


Into the nervous, and how to make it swerving


If only I knew who I’m talking to, but the truth is


I’m talking to blacking I know itI love you on purpose


I’m winding and endingStrange psychic


LeapfrogThanks dearly to everybodyWhen I spilled


My guts, you were thereThe bird so gasping


And in you within you the forest on fire,


Raging a future of splitting between usAmerica


I miss it like a fabric made of eaglesAnd you


In the trunk of a Plymoth in a song A mistake


Indeed on a Sunday, and upstairs the beat is stronger


Than it’s been all dayPeople are dancing


Dig?You’re covered in shadows, but


I’m looking for lightness, the springiest springiest springs