into the friday night swarm of the mayflies
i shudder like a wing
i flap a simple, cool breeze and they take flight
into the big city ringin'
what good is spring if you hunger the spiders
into the stomach singin'
to save a new life
under the cold stale light of the street lamp
i fold in like a moth
and in my lonely drawers of devotion
i make my holy cloth
i'll find the brightest sill to leave my wings on
when can i take them off?