woodpecker

Rolling wheels slide with the sleet Speak, speak, and put me at ease Hum, hum me to sleep Trace the wrinkles on my sheets I can try to steer But, I veer, I veer Cool waves over the sands heat The warm lamp-post down your street Soil closely to the soles of my feet Save it for when we finally meet I can try to steer But, I veer, I veer Cold floors in the early morning Wet grass in the virgin evening Eyes sting to see you leaving My toes and hands are freezing I can try to steer But, I veer, I veer The fever-phase, the conqueror, the crust The wild ones, the beetles and the bugs Porcelain skin and white chalk hands How naive to think we could begin to understand I can try to steer But, I veer, I veer I can try to steer But, I veer, I veer I can try to steer But, I veer, I veer