Visions

All this twisting, all this curving,
I am a highway and a clover.
I am twisted up with burning rubber,
My insides cannot turn right.
...or wrong...or at all for that matter.

How I think of my fragile heart often,
How it is often on my mind,
It's got a longer fall from way up there.
It's on my mind because it's on my mind.
...or head...or not in my chest at all.

Lay down when your stomach tells you to.
It's best to let everything crash and rest.
Lay down in fields and get field weed tattoo imprints on your hands.
Lay down and pray, and sleep, and dream, and see visions.

I've got bugs crawling round and underneath these clothes.