Intro.. ...Back Draw... ..Along Poems.. ...MoreI hear it I hear as you chase her - she has more and more skirts (as time run) ever more often get you close tears - your biting peer I hear how you want to catch her and right here: you make small onions from childhood bruises: I envy you - I can't to jab her in piano: but I let my nails to grow like an animal - maybe my fingertips will be pregnant with some little melody (I thought the fingers are playing through the palms but: the stubbornness makes push ups on knuckles)