Before it´s all over, I'd love to sleep with you and 
criticize your art. The pigeons applaud you, a ghost of a 
woman. I opened you up hard and covered you to the eyes. 
Keeping you safe. You're so right. You're so light. It's 
all bright. A forest of fingers with everything burning 
and all the windows closed. We're folded together, let go 
of our bodies and find out where this goes. Then while 
you were sleeping, with feathers bent backwards you 
spread out like a bird. And all of the others, they 
circle above us, waiting for the word. Cover us to the 
eyes, keeping us safe. You?re so right. You're so light. 
It's all bright. You?re so right. You're so light. It's 
all bright.