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
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