Из альбома: The Bookseller's House
I will meet you in the garden
We will shed our skin
Leave our old bodies and look on them
Our new ones could be anything
Greener, greens
And blues so deep
They’d make
The delta weep
Sunflowers
And a purple sky
Volcanoes crash
Sparks fly
Bodies of brass
Heavenly cost
The statues will come
Into the light at last
The moon has turned
The rains have passed
The sands have burned
Into sheets of glass
Leave our bodies
And look on them
Our new ones
Could be anything