Booth Before you were born you learned how to float with us You found a womb and left so soon And lost your hair, a phoenix from a faint flare Frozen in the waking of an Eastern current. We heard you speak in a new language We're told you drink from an antique cup. Was it traumatic? Did you open your eyes in a breach? Of conventional faces that won't sing about their worlds In another fortress that whistles like an ailing herald's call From clenched fists to open arms that will bath you in moonlight. And we still speak english And we still speak english And we still speak english.