Dark Storm

Bright white cockatoo, baby how I ponder your shadow.

How you rip me off my feet, rape me of my time to sleep shallow.

And from the sky, she speaks to me
and through her melody, lingers.
I said "No, I don't want your love, no, I don't
care anymore, finger."

Though I was equipped with a rain-ship, and a star-ship
and a fire-ship, all come to dance.

No one told me the end of the line could
be only emptiness that would swallow all my love. I fell beneath the company.
Now shall I sleep in a bed of blood, down in the deep, the rolling sea.

And in my angst for cool hips or softness or morning glow confidence, I took it
to the dog, took it to the plants, took it to the beach, I took it to the shark;
I found tenderness.

But when I took it to the sky, to the bright white Cockatoo
on a satellite, she looked down on all my years, but with a click of a finger
she goes higher than the call for children, higher than the stand that kills it,
should've s lipped it off. I should've known there and then.

But she swallowed
all my love. I fell beneath the company, and now I sleep in a bed of blood, down
in the deep, the rolling sea. Oh you roll, roll over me. Yeah, you roll over me.