there is something lives in the blowing wind
behind those trees which fill the night with their shaking
over the sad flats of black vinyl which no one has bothered to etch with music
something blows which has tossed your hair
and left it behind
without regret

there is something lives in blowing wind
behind those trees which fill night with their shaking
over sad flats of black which no one has bothered to etch with music
something which has tossed your hair
and passed on