Cure

Time, will this one be foreign?
As I come and see
The dawn cracks upon me

Half is divine
Half is thievery
As I stole your light
To wash all within me

Reopening of life
Reopening of sorrow
Nothing is still
And nothing is hollow

Whatever the wind
Wills and delivers
I’m slow as a stir
On a desertside amble

Reopening of dreams
Reliving desires
While nothing is whist
And nothing is stable

Whenever the wind
Is shattering my stillness
I’m light as a fleece
I’m thin as a plywood

Reopening of wounds
The wreck of my hobo
But nothing is still
And nothing is hollow

Reopening of wounds
The rest of December
Cure me a river
Cure me a river

Whenever the wind
Is shattering my stillness
Cure me a river
Cure me a river

Cure me a river