I low and bay on with a feeling
I understand was no kind of love

and I find I could part like a desert
as I know my want. I'm your could, had, if

away from the little name I've been paying
in indecision when you've been running

down love. It's baby lies sitting
meek as a horse in the trees, here to fly

and skate about me, tell of my dues.
I live mouse mild on my own,

sitting cannonballs are one wish about
my if journey, the walking abroad a river, as

the animals head on the coming Christmas sun.
I spring away, in the morning,

I turn, dock, through the blue evening
as you're cutting the first way through.