Hums of conversation
Lip goes
One leg crossed
Driven back into this corner
Is it the same when I leave
As when I come
On a higher or lower frequency
It means nothing to me
Watch me turn the volume down
It`s always cold before the last day
Still guarding space
Snow piled up by the road to my house
The one time I tried
It was a fine view
Through and across
Then there was restlessness
And in that movement
I dressed in the light from outside
