He prays for understanding
He's on a fucking mission
Hasn't got a field to land in
Hasn't got a pot to piss in
Greedy for some huge connection
Not gonna live forever
Never tell him he can't have it
Now he wants it more than ever
Stacked urges, novel vices
Night of the soul, etcetera
These dubious devices
Are now his raison d'etre
I watch him by the river
He's like a reed in Autumn
Not ready to deliver
Not ready yet for the post-mortem
My little waterbaby
Stands in a field of ruins, says:
"When do we fly again?"
No word for what he's doing
My hungry little savage
Bright as a burning building
Turns on himself again
Nothing he loves is worth pursuing
Better untried than found defective
Better unhinged than unselective
Better messed up than compromised
Better ignored than not emphasized
Better lie low than get infected
Better rot down than be dissected
Better bound up than paralyzed
Better the devil you recognize
Better untried than found defective
Better unhinged than unselective
Better messed up than compromised
Better ignored than not emphasized
Better lie low than get infected
Better rot down than be dissected
Better bound up than paralyzed
Better the devil you recognize
Creature of wind and weather
Caged in a cheap museum
Dust coats the eagle's feathers
It'll break your heart to see them
He has the right to bear it
And still he fears to show it
What kind of eye to see it
What kind of heart to know it?
My little waterbaby
Stands in a field of ruins, says:
"When do we fly again?"
No word for what he's doing
My howling little monster
Bright as a burning building
Turns on himself again
Nothing he loves is worth pursuing
Writer(s): Barry Andrews
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