The curtain slaps in the wind

A human sound of fleshy flesh

Little fists pummel absently

To birth the spirit in the room



The wind it seems to lick

The wind it seems to suck

The wind is a great big woman

That makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up



My body seems to be lacking something

I remember the taste

That on a night like this

Wa sonly ever shed in haste

All these moments have passed through me

I have turned them all to waste



There are women on the street

They shine before me like teeth in a mine

And their are voices on the street

One of them is mine



If I watched from a high hidden window

I'd hear myself say

Oh I can't make it out

I'm too far away



But the conversation is like the beating

Taken in a dream

Where no real blows are landed

The only harm is in memory



All these women have passed through me

I have turned them all to waste