Smoggy october sea opens

And the silent heat

Of the birds is mine

Everything's seen by the invicible stars

Cold bits of fire

Just nearby



Wing moves along your thigh

And the harbor's full of departures



I count the months

Like my memories

Six white ones, six cold ones



You cannot imagine numbers like that

The whistle's like a dream

And I have returned

From the stars



Wing moves along your thigh

And the harbor's full of departures



I count the months

Like my memories

Six white ones, six cold ones