slow birds
no breeze
iron hearts
rust in streams
long march
small crimes
soft words
whisper
it`s time to come home - your eyes
to bring back - your charms
to sit real still
in my arms
vclocks tick
trees pound
lions roar
on empty streets
long lists
in black and white
(s h h) red words
that read like the fourth of July
you`re home
uhuh, you`re home, in my arms
