In a foreign land turning on the radio
wakes me up in ages I thoroughly erased,
a tune I used to paint on icons in the church
playing chords in manners they actually deserve
but crystal readings were never my pretense,
some news were always getting old
people open up the eyes they’ve never seen
and the highway to the altar is desert
the band keeps going, reciting as foretold
poetry and shopping lists for lovers that forgot…

Listening this morning my hands are getting bent
skin is softer and my voice sounds clearer
the present opens doors the past has never had
I’m inclined to build up stairs reaching to the stars,
will you be my lover and I will be your grizzly bear
frightening the tourists when I don’t hibernate
I will take you see the sunrise at that mountain lake,
drinking coffee in the cold you’ll pour a glass of wine
kiss the lips that swear and we shall turn out fine
love me in the storm and I will love you to the end…