On good evenings, we walk through the hills, to the top of the hill, the faster dogs, the clouds racing.
Sometimes the wind is so high, he does not hear me.
Traitor into this place, my cousin ran this.
All the blue changes, I'm dizzy sometimes.
That the path and the bushes are the same,
That the gates are the same,
That the lake is the same.
You crossed the field out of darkness, you were right.
I turn to them and speak.
And watch the falling light.
And their tittering bitches, and their music,
And their tittering bitches, and their music, And their tittering bitches, and their music,
And their love.
They ask me where I come from.
I say of course from the country.
Come with me tonight.
Where?
Anywhere for a while.
My visit, my care, will be
Like any other visit, any other care.
I see something in a tree, a shape, a shadow.
When I run.
Floating underneath.
The horizon moves from the sun.
They are sharp at first sight, then smudged then lost,
Then glimpsed again, then gone.
Feel all the dust drain out
Let it go
Feel the grit slip away
I look them in their eyes
It's high up
Does it get darker
The higher you get
No
Around me sits the night
Such a silence
I've had all that
I've got all that
I said
I nodded
He could
She was looking down
Yes you can
I said
What are you saying
I didn't hear you
She said
But I'm looking at you
It's your head that's bent
In the morning
They wake up
Snort a bit
Can't do sometimes
And eat
There aren't any
Don't be stupid
I don't like them
You're stupid
You're stupid
For instance
A shot in the tree
I found a bus
Screw it
Where'd you get it
Here it is




Wait
What are we 63
propor
Does this happen
And do you remain
I'll be fine

I'll make everything up

Shop


All of it

As my eyes close
I see last of lights
I walk
To the bus
Certainly I can remember the wedding
I walk with my girl
Who wears a grey blouse
To the bus, to the town
Crowds
Like round the market
guitar solo
guitar solo
guitar solo