Language

If language were liquidIt would be rushing inInstead here we areIn a silence more eloquentThan any word could ever beThese words are too solidThey don't move fast enoughTo catch the blur in the brainThat flies by and is goneGoneGoneGoneI'd like to meet youIn a timeless, placeless placeSomewhere out of contextAnd beyond all consequencesLet's go back to the building(Words are too solid)On Little West TwelfthIt is not far away(They don't move fast enough)And the river is thereAnd the sun and the spacesAre 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 isGone (Gone)I won't use words againThey don't mean what I meantThey don't say what I saidThey're just the crust of the meaningWith realms underneathNever touchedNever stirredNever even moved throughIf language were liquidIt would be rushing inInstead here we areIn a silence more eloquentThan any word could ever beAnd is goneGoneGoneAnd is gone