God is not a contract or a guy God is an unspecified tide You cannot time its tables It sets no glass or gables God is a lusty tire fire Its bristles scrape and strike the stage A rock-paper-scissors rage Have mercy on the natural world
My voice is not the liquid waves The perfect rings 'round a heron's legs My voice a straight garroting wire A stolen mile of fingerprints Peeled up quiet from their dunes Captured and re-spooled as ruin To be used at a different time
My voice is a fracture Of a shinbone's lust Pounding barefoot ground It lifts you up and sits you just Just at sorrow's waterline I drape you on tomorrow's plate Ferrous, metal marrow spilling Not yours but mine I'm an agent of the natural world
Don't you tell me I didn't warn you That that's some gravity you ought not to play with Don't you tell me I didn't warn you That that's some gravity you ought not to play with
Nothing quite so poison as a promise Nothing quite so poison as a promise Nothing quite so poison as a promise Nothing quite so poison as a promise
And me, I am not a mess I am a wilderness, yes The undiscovered continent for you to undress But you'll not be my master You're barely my guest You don't have permission to take any pictures Be careful of the natural world
Nature can't amend its ways Boils hell-on and then replays Despite heartfelt springtimes of regret The storm, she still cries for days Have mercy on the natural worldTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
