| Forced into the stagelight / A weak, wan and marbled hide / Disgorged up to
|
| jugdement / Sharp cracks of the gavel
|
| Great caps in a row / Their fine mystery certain / And the balcony heaves with
|
| old familiarts, lechers and treason
|
| The prisoner’s stance / A calm acceptance in the stifling scowl of the hanging
|
| judge / The defendant speaks…
|
| Where am I now that you could deliver me? |
| / I have lived over clouds and
|
| beneath the deepest sea
|
| I sang from the caverns as the rocks peeled and broke with trees / I was origin,
|
| everything. |
| Who could deliver me?
|
| For I was a blaze in your shallow dusk / The winding berth of stars / Where
|
| lonely gavels pound the earth
|
| To work it dark with scars / But I tire of the chase, the harvest monopoly /
|
| How you bore with your delicate graces and
|
| Charity / I’ll soothe quiet desires and the ache of the evergreen / And then
|
| how shall I wait — for judgement or clarity?
|
| For I am your ache and your reverie / Your wild desire and colour / And in my
|
| flaws adorn the court / The pivot of my garden
|
| Deliver your judgement / My chancery, pause to decide
|
| Deliver your judgement / My garden, my flowers of light |