bu*terflies with gilded wings this morning
Touched the red sun and the rain
On the bridge, the workers pa** in threes and fours and fives
To my sleeplessness, reflections after Jane
How I long to live inside a window
By the sighing motorway
Feel the city searching for my loneliness
In all the dust and gla**, reflections after Jane
And I see her all on a golden Sunday
With her hair so dark in the rain
Who is in the newspapers this month or week or year?
My silent friend
I can starve my life into a deeper sleep
Remembering reflections after Jane