Your unhanded movements and back handed ways Will only serve you backwards You idiots... you slaves For angels still rise From the spirits of the slain Mother Nature will punish you Justification is hers to put claim
My heart is beating rhythmically In resonance to the beat of 'End Of Time’. My soul is breathing in tranquility, In response to the gleaming full moon. My body is surviving poetically In reply to the poetries I write.
‘End Of Time’ is my most favourite song which is By Alan Walk
Most of the brine has got to boil away Most of the air has got to choke you Most of June I spent in jail again I don't mean jail, exactly Up in the pine tree Red squirrel looking down at me
I am losing control of the language again I am losing control of the language again
Most of the things I used to hold onto Most of the things I used to say to you Most of the ways I knew around the local roads Are disappearing daily High in the cottonwood You were looking down at me and you sure looked good Hair hanging down in the leaves Your neck tilted back to make a rainbow
I was losing control of the language again I am losing control of the language again