Language

If language were liquid

It would be rushing in

Instead here we are

In a silence more eloquent

Than any word could ever be

These words are too solid

They don't move fast enough

To catch the blur in the brain

That flies by and is gone

Gone

Gone

Gone

I'd like to meet you

In a timeless placeless place

Somewhere out of context

And beyond all consequences

Let's go back to the building

Words are too solid

On Little West Twelfth

It is not far away

They don't move fast enough

And the river is there

And the sun and the spaces

Are all laying low

To catch the blur in the brain

And we'll sit in the silence

That flies by and is

That comes rushing in and is

Gone

Gone

I won't use words again

They don't mean what I meant

They don't say what I said

They're just the crust of the meaning

With realms underneath

Never touched

Never stirred

Never even moved through

If language were liquid

It would be rushing in

Instead here we are

In a silence more eloquent

Than any word could ever be

And is gone

Gone

Gone

And is gone