The belly or the bully will pull the boy to me, we're swelling in the sea. Teeth and fingernails strip the shell clean, thread my buttons and beads. And if the house is sadder when I leave you on your own just build another home - stubborn Billy-goat! Bitter to the bone, chopping timber and stone.
Forgive this request, see I'm bleeding half to death. For days I drift and land in your hands, where all that I know is all I need to know. I take the pen and I write: "You are anything other than kind."
The son will gift the colour when the ashes are grey on our mother's face. Giving counsel and giving us a name, such a tender exchange. But if you're growing bitter as I lead you through the breeze just lead me to the field. Scatter petals and bury me in weeds. Chop a cross from a tree.
Forgive this request, see I'm bleeding half to death. For days I drift and land in your hands, where all that I know is all I need to know. But when the morning looks down on some river too shallow to hold or fire the ammo, hide between the digger and the plough.