Above the corrugated, elastic lake
the darkening sky holds out its arms.
A thousand miles away, you're turning twenty-three
I repeat your name, each time different
into sand, into moonlight.
Far off, the lake crumbles at its edges,
the sky holds out its arms.
the darkening sky holds out its arms.
A thousand miles away, you're turning twenty-three
I repeat your name, each time different
into sand, into moonlight.
Far off, the lake crumbles at its edges,
the sky holds out its arms.
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