At 5 a.m time stopped moving
Hands came and pushed down my door
They dragged me out of bed
It felt automatic
Everything moving
And I'm only half-awake
It's strange how hands and guns and winter
Can take you by surprise
And when the wind starts blowing
Like a dying hound moaning
You feel hands upon your neck
All the friends I have
And all the family
But I only ever think of you
When I'm half-awake
And people start pulling
My body off the bed
Only thinking of you
Face down in the grass and dew
Handcuffs around my wrist