I write you always
When the threat
At the bottom of the course
Climbs and freezes me.
Look over there
At the end of my finger
If nothing changes
The sky becomes red
Did I tell you
The story of that man
Who wanted all of
The women, the opium?
Morality?
It died in bed
All passes, all breaks
The joint, the tired ass.
I tell you again
That winter is dead
Lengthen your braids
Stash your bottoms
When the lovers
Curl up in large numbers
All the dead leaves
Laugh amongst themselves
And there are odds that nothing changes
There are odds that nothing changes
Where is that shadow going?
Lost itself far away
On a large number
There will be nothing
My little fire,
I kiss you on your eyes
I leave the casing
I love you more than a little
And there are odds that nothing changes
There are odds that nothing changes