Feel the grand falling in my hand
Between my brows, the tides never really land
Under a freight train, inside the rain
What a shame
Feel you hand in sketching paper strands
The Józefów pool, the turning of the land
It sounds like an answer, the air where you once were
Leaves in fall
Am I losing something?
Am I doing something?
Pole-birds taking more than they could ever inhale
White and pale go together well
Like moses and a catfish in a wishing well, well, well
See the toads paving salty roads
Switch your face into travelling mode
Eating some fish chips, resting your hips
All in all, can you hear me at all?
Am I losing something?
Am I doing somebody in?
Pole-birds taking more than they could possibly inhale
White and pale go together well
Like moses and a catfish in a wishing well, well, well
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