Greens to red
White birds come down
to streets just standing there
“I’ll call you back”
The phone is ringing
down below the sewer
Liberal park
Kids come in line to play
and shake my hand
Dizzy Head
Mary-go-round you stared
I’ll pack them all
And a tiny light bulb loaded in a box
Locked it up
Hand it to an old man
who owns a candy shop
Pouring rain
Drop down the canvas
lost its paint of grey
On my way
See you the other day
It won’t be here
Won’t be there
Neither where dice rolling
It won’t be now
Won’t be them
Apart from the days going
A great journey
This will be
Instructions no longer need
Marching in
Marching in
Memory under your feet
Breathing out
Breathing in
Blue shade rush over me
Free at last
Free is me
Climbing a mountain of bittersweet