If reincarnation holds true, I should like to be born Away from this city, in the high Himalayas Where the crown of the world shows its thorns Detached from this body, now spinning, now coming back down To the grey skies of London, and this Spanish affliction Cigarettes and a hospital gown Masters of secrets, and bridges to worlds we can't see The lodger within me, like pylons sunk deeply In the mud of an Indian sea Clear conscience, clairvoyant, not the fraud the world wants me to be These manifestations, are the wisdom of ages Unveiled, untethered, set free You brothers of Luxor, you sisters of Isis come down There's a shadow that runs from the mountains of Lhasa to the edges of Old Camden Town The wind through these canyons is cold, and it scares me to breathe Like treading the water of an African cape Or the Mediterranean sea The lotus is born of the mud, but it rises to greet The sun and the passing of souls in the aether If the two of them happen to meet A thousand years pass, and the lotus will wake once again Reborn to a world that is also reborn The same souls in new bodies and skins But here in these walls, in a house in the woods of St. John There's a vase, ornate in its making, and full Of the parts of a soul that is gone No flying, no falling, no spinning, just an idol at rest A last manifestation, a new transfiguration She's reincarnated at last...

“Spread your wings to cover me Stars imperishing and bright I am a stranger in the land Where the falcon lost his eye And he cried a mighty river Now it surges from its shores And I’m left to drink the flood down A raft adrift with broken oars” A bloom of roses on his face Tongue stained red with sweet shiraz The wine cuts deep into the skin The same way the desert does And his eyes well up and empty To wash the sand from off his clothes Born in the eastern sky this morning Died in the same way that he rose It set upon the empire And did these soldiers turn to thieves The wealth of kings laid low and waiting Airless space of centuries Me in khaki and white linen They in their white linen too Dressed in palm wine spice and honey To let the jackal take his due So he thought a little while About the measure of his heart And the scales that tip and balance Where the souls wait to depart And the crocodile laid waiting Her hunger deep within For the souls of thieves and traitors The least original of sin “Spread your wings to cover me Stars imperishing and bright I am a stranger in the land Where the falcon lost his eye He’ll swoop and dip and keen And then he falls upon his prey The curse of 7000 years Screaming down on drunks like me” In the evening light of Cairo He can hear the master's call Sees the feather placed and waiting For a heavy heart to fall They’ll find him in the river Wrapped in linens for his clothes Born in the eastern sky this morning Died in the same way that he rose

The music of his heart stops And his wings fold up and soon they turn to blades There were whispers soft amongst the colonnades That it was poison turned his blood a different shade And left him lying in a bed he never made The music of his heart stops A ticking time bomb that was waiting to explode A metronome that slowed with each progressive stone He called for more weight to be added to the load Now he's alone but doesn't know he's not alone The music of his heart stops The conductor waves his arms as if to fly And tries to lift the chorus up into the sky But blades can only take a man to certain heights And he'd be nothing if he didn't even try

There's a crack in the armor Where the wind gets in There's a light in the attic Where the stories end Pictures of weddings and a Crumbling veil with the Lace and the letters turning Dustier trails Who could forgive the time for wanting to walk ahead? Quicken the footsteps darling, Counting the days instead There's a halo of sunlight that's a trick of the clouds there's a curtain of crystals where the Light skips and bows Green for the sunset oh and Blue for the lunar year Well of good fortune and a Coin through the thinning air Who could forgive the time for wanting to stay in bed? Quicken the footsteps darling Counting the days instead

Suppose we pretend It's not really the end The year could stretch into summer Then come round again There's hearts on a line They're hung up there to dry But there's blood in a stone And there's still blood in mine So write your secrets, and sing me your truth Have we built a cathedral and set fire to the roof? Are they houses of God if the stone is made flesh, And when the last ember darkens, there's nothing else left? It's a rock for the ages It's the light on the ranges It's the love between strangers That can only know changes The year meets its last In the grape and the glass An unkind remembrance Of holes in our past Memories used up In the grain and the cup We'd float with the tide But there's something else stuck There's a moon overhead but it's cold and dark And I've been watching the fireworks alone in the park It just takes a match to give birth to that spark In that moment, a new moon don't seem all that dark It's just a rock for the ages It's the beasts in our cages It's the love between strangers That can only know changes That can only know change... When I change I will still be the same The same ocean with a different name The same orbit on a whole 'nother plane The same building just weathered by rain The same stranger who loves you But never in vain Suppose we pretend That it's almost the end The year could vanish at midnight And not come again There's hearts in a line And one of them's mine There's blood in a stone If you just hold on tight

A ghost can’t rest until its name is spoken for the very last time Blue circles holding up the walls, ivy growing down the chalk lines The heart will have its catacombs Bones laid under marble stones Secrets spoken in the half-light Scan the spirit radio We talk until it’s time to go Then bid them rest until the next time These winter days the veil thins 'til I can almost touch the ether The wind finds comfort in the space between the windows and the heater Radiator whistle low Sing those songs from long ago I need a friend until the morning Temperature will stall and dive Half asleep but still alive Til April hangs the trees with her adorning The old straight track, the space between That runs from here to Aberdeen Lines that glow like copper wire Spirits dance like Elmo’s fire Finding patterns, ear kept low To static on the radio Stories from another time Reaching from your heart to mine A man can’t die until his name is spoken for the very last time Blue circle holding up the walls the ivy growing down the ley lines Eighteen-hundred forty four A poet was then was no more A love sneaks up and then it hits you Nineteen-hundred forty one One eye closed and one eye gone You never hear the one that gets you