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The Borrowers
I woke up this morning, the pale light warming
my songs were all broken from trying to move mountains
and I couldn't seem to piece them back together with heart
but great heron landed where all light was absent
where hares burrow, birds borrow twigs for their nests
and the trees open branches to greet the great morning sky
they asked me:
'Son of man, where is your rib?
and son of man, where are your clothes?
son of man, where is that fruit?
ah, no one knows!'
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We planted our fields in hopes of return
but our tales got tied and the fields were all burned
and momma fox caught us and scolded us all for our pride
she said 'He took your chains, and he left them behind
with no more attached to keep you by his side
didn't you think that maybe you were already free?'
Son of man, when have you lived?
Son of man, when will you go?
son of man, is it your choice?
Oh, I don't know anything at all - What a relief
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