these days i've been finding it hard to trust myself as oil drums carry our nation's blood blackened by too much summer fun and offshore spills. the time to chill has passed because soon we will feel the effects of our warring globe warming up to suicide... we have a new kind of rain to worry us. our nocturnal emissions touching the face og god. a new kind of rain to worry us... drumming on metal rooftops... around the world...
Hugh:
if we can't live like other people do what holds our hands behind us? if we can't move like other people oh oh what's wrapped around us oh oh and how to move to home home to movements that we know know knowing that it's home home wrapped all around us moving backwards through native tongues native tongues reach sore lungs native tongues reach into sore lungs sore lungs explode outward through bleeding gums creation i'm not my own creation i'm not my own possession i'm not my own creation swimming backward through native tongues native country receive native son native son fumble in foreign tongues speak to ghosts is act of generation speaking tongues is our separation