From the recording Tourist
Lyrics
ptarmigan, lead us around the bend
safe in your mossy nest
your velvety cry
anxious kiss, so do we bear witness
to the rattle of providence
to the passing of time
it's hit or miss, the sense of accomplishment
detached by abandonment
deceased on the vine
then something clicks, like the striking of steel on flint
like the trail as a conduit
like her igneous spine
like her igneous spine
your closest friends in the language of garden beds
growing out from your emptiness
could you show us a sign
so nothing fits in the splintered unconsciousness
caught the eye of a basilisk
left nothing behind
left nothing behind