Lletres: Portugal. The Man. Church Mouth. Sleeping Sleepers Sleep.

Shave our heads
strip our clothes
burn them books but
the mind still grows
a sheltered mind with
fears of rings
fear of time
and missing links
we all once were.
and I'll walk until my legs are broken
I was up walking and you were the shoes
bored with the thoughts that you thoughts I could use
Islands were made of brick stone and shade
where deaths only rest of laughable tunes
feel your toes
buried sand
wide eyes roll and
the legs, they stand
I was alseep until my eye were opened
we are made to be sewn
bodys lips eyes
earthed and regrown
shave our heads
strip our clothes
burn them books but
the mind still grows
and I'll walk until my legs are broken
Bills sit about talking of people they've used
born of new worlds that have fallen past due
trusting in funding and finding a place
in wheel wells and homes and people like you
films finding fair faces and lies
while ships bearing backs house glass teeth and eyes
like the apartment of capable tunes
that bored with the thoughts that we thought it could use
it never ever rains if you never cry
and you never have to mourn if you never ever die