After the guns are silent
After your wounds have healed
After those
Awake soon
The mindstorm
I feel, I feel
The stars out
The fear goes
I
Who wants a genius anyway
Who worries if he's had enough
Innocent Sunday morning
As plain as the Sunday before
I thought as
I went to California
I met a lovely man
He rubs a
the town is crouching
a field of windmills waits, their stupid
i should go to drastic measures
steal enormous works of art
write
Armies and ice and dirty green
Newspapers, shovels, sand on the
well you can stay the night
you can look me in
Maybe I should take up smoking
Perhaps even cigars
Think I should
So we take the path not taken
Down into the fields
Inside the heart of freezing boys
Searching for the answer in
Little London night
Shiny pavement
Yellow, red and white
Oh that I
Science wears a new suit
To his coffee, toast, and eggs
But
She’s looking out and out to a galaxy
A fateful
» More on Sarah Slean