I can't read all the books,
or be all the people,
or live all the lives.
But I can feel every tone,
shade and hue.
Fill my lungs with mountains,
and grass and skies.
Watch my life branch out like
a moreton bay fig.
Here comes lonely
and blue,
and I'll feel every tone,
and shade and hue.
There's no way out of my head,
so I'll devour the rain,
beautiful and annihilating,
full and terminal.
Every tone,
shade and hue.
