Masque Halfroom
Pets of nightfall, fed enough Longing flings to say hello Running fast in spiral dances Mocking bed-clothes try to burn The air gets filled with damp When telling lies of health devices Burning it with glitter Of thin and nervous eyes The fall of something clear And shining through the air Hit his shoe and headed for the womb Growing wet and rolling Leaving salt lines in the skin Waiting in the halfroom My mouth smells bad I'm saying nothing Gasps of pets will speak of me Among other stranger things While one by one and very silent The small and far-away people Go dark and out of reach I swear that I can't tell If I am happier by now Spiteful hours till times are done Unease will drag your bones to sleep Lower yourself till times are none You will always be beloved (Words: Sahlin Music: Engström/Rellmark)
