animals in the city -
when the light turns red, child,
grab my hand and cross quickly.
bus to work,
bus tables at work
it's business as usual.
all done up o what a mess
how these animals dress,
with all their drugs,
and their breasts -
it's as clear as a mirror
as concealed as our flesh -
baby needs a rest.
he's running home till his death.
in the beat of the room
and the dark of the bar,
it's just the shape of a womb
and the sound of a heart.
a paradise lost, with a paradise found.
"should we asphalt the ground?"
"i don't know, it's not my fault now,
son, it's your round"
c'mon home,
come on home.
but mom i forget just where i'm from.
did you forget where you lived?
yeah, i forgot where i lived -
but i think it's got something to do with
the howling winds.