Cathy Davey - Thylacine lyrics

I was dreaming of you, thylacine The last of so many You were pulled by the moon But she won't find you in this room Of iron and concrete Oh we're ordinary, made of mud, made of clay Pull the night over me For a moment you're home From the seed to the shoot We sever every root A dislocated limb With no words to convey It swam about you all day And bubbled like a hymn Oh we're ordinary, made of mud, made of clay Pull the night over me I can't see you Oh we're ordinary, made of mud, made of clay Pull the night over me For a moment You'd better believe from the ground we're released No amount of concrete will unbind us Oh we're ordinary I am mud you are clay Momentarily she will find us