Let me weave two dresses for you,
By the measure of our pain.
You can wear the white one,
while the other dries up in my rain.
...
Two Dresses
Let me weave two dresses for you,
By the measure of our pain.
You can wear the white one,
while the other dries up in my rain.
Let a window be in shards,
Trough it the loo will sway.
You can stand beside it still,
I know it's the month of May.
Let that mole be a secret,
I don't know if it's the left or right.
You can't know of a hair too,
That has grown a little gray and white.
And now I will let you plant a seed,
And I will watch the moment being born.
You can run away with the leaves,
I'll keep one of its thorns.