like a wind that burns your chest
we did it again
we  did it the same
again
soul made from milk, hold me
cover me
wrap me in your clay
like a lost child weeping in the streets
without villages, cities
without a country
or a mother
born in war
warm me in your nest under the eaves
you know? sometimes you can't be found  anywhere
and even i know we are not from here
and all is fado, - meat in the ditch
grave in the sea
i'm still looking for you everywhere
then
i return to our house in the air
in the air