What of a war? There was a war?
Didn’t it threaten to bewetten us in our beds?
Brother, if it did--and it did--we should pat our backs for selling all our papers
And paperless, we killed the storm by standing underneath an eavestrough
My heart is full, my heart is still
And it would take more than a foggy mind to drown it.
Oh memory, all ears and eyes
Preserving, pruning, preening every leaf of every lie
It’s not your fault, it’s not my fault, if every fault should find its way into our suppers
Ummmmm, errrrr.... luminum, aluminum, aluminimium, luminumaluminimium!
Then there’s your face! It’s brown and bold!
See? How a miner can forget about his veins of gold?
And how the ground smiles so hungrily at our bones?