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(The sounds heard while walking
To an empty music school
Under the freezing sun in Skagaströnd.)

He’s not human,
A fire in black and white:
My internal uncanny valley,
Fog around half formed memories.

Can you feel the lack
Of warmth in the sunrise?
All the fields are freezing up,
Rreflecting so bright.

Bipolar 1:
Definition is a mirror.
So I’ve been running half my life,
Alone with voices in the night.

Can you feel their floating
Warmth in the night sky?
All the fields are swelling up,
Giving new life.

He believes in a god sometimes:
The truth beneath the world he finds
When he writes these songs
Fence posts to protect me.

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