I was the shadow of the whitewood slain
By the false emerald in the windowpane
I was the fur of flesh and fluff
And I lived on, swam to, hide away
How delightful when a rain of men
In a distance I saw falling down
They promised the sky, the top floor
For being good as they
Two more years day's dull white
I heard late at night
The dark unites the viewer and the view
Finding your China right behind my house
Look at the wrists are they cut or what
Was he in Sher was she in lock
The fellow whispers tracks
Clouding myself a mist
I want to be in
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