my language is breaking down
my thought is a runny fountain pen
leaving stains, ruining the tablecloths
and your simple head.

the moon in a chain around your neck
blue horses at your back gate
the fences all painted golden
by your beautiful hands

and all i can do is turn red
and all i can do is hide my crooked face
i hide from your bright light
i hide
and hide

show me the way
show me and lead my way
show me how to be wonderful
to be safe, to be.