"Desert"
(written by Elaine Adamedes)
Dying in the desert,
He is dreaming of the water
down the bathroom drain
Thinking of the oceans and
the rain
What are you doing with
your time?
He's using it to elongate
his mind
Elongate his mind
It moves and it gives
It moves, and stretches
with the curves and lines
And it gives
Tongue is made of paper,
sickly whitish
And his eyes no longer see
the light
Language has been stripped
of him for good
Slowly, he seems to sidestep
time
And, using it, he elongates
his mind
Elongates his mind
It moves and gives
It moves and gives
Miles and miles of body
Then he's tiny, just a grain,
and he exists no more
Funeral tears that might
have saved his life
Squeezing, he slips to ride
with time
And, using it, he elongates
his mind
Elongates his mind
It moves and gives
It moves and gives
