Hang your clothes on the line
Amongst the apple trees we abandon time.
We laugh. We run.
Forgetting where we’re from.
Lakes! Rivers!
We fall. We fall.
Caravans and sooty clothes,
Silences, other worlds.
Spider spins a web of gold,
From his legs magic flowed.
See your fear, my dear
It changes shape into a deer.
Hear us loud, hear us clear,
The hand of God, we will not fear.
Come wind, come rain,
Fences and drains.
Tear apart our little house,
And we will still remain. (repeat ad. finitum)
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