Lyrics:
Martin Etudes

You are the queen of a dust bowl, Ex to a crier in a town of ashes, This is what happens when a great love crashes. Tonight you let me see you, For the

Over the airwaves tonight, Sailing by a love lonely light, Isn't it blue, but isn't it brighter Than the pilot of a domestic flight Well under this

Scoop my brains and let my heart have action In its thousand million lots, In the dumb city dawn I am senseless and drawn to the sun as the blackbirds

"Well met, well met" said an old true love, "well met, well met" said he, "I have just returned from the salt salt sea, and all for the love of thee

Level your fretting I won't be forgetting the flush of your face When I lifted you level to me And a wattle tree framed your body In whispers welling

Honey goes candy in the condiment cupboard, Unwax it. unplug it, What you discover in August nights, Like children walled in and papers drawn up for

Here sits a once good gardener, pale as a shadow of a doubt, Once a happy dweller of a garden good, once a sleepy sinner, once cast out To the sea

This is a song, not like the other ones, secret and selfish and somewhat hollow. In the middle of this song there seemed to grown another Of indeterminate

To be, A bee, a moth. Four wings spread for the soft last touch Of glory sun, Remembering blood plums and lips and lemons - One hundred different suns