Give It a Name - 1984

Bunch of sherpas now

Surround my hill

Hungry people climb

Very calmly

Your fat walls

Will fall and all

Will melt in the ground

Silently drowned

My words ain’t useless

If they’re meant for you

My arms are modest

But remain true

For all those days

For all those waves

That swallowed up in vain

Heavens we bore

Don’t waste your love for me Master of echoes

Go orientate the wind

Weak and dry

But we can try

To sing for blind crowds, sound knives, cancer kids

I lose the sight, lose the sight for real

Now give it a name

To this thing you can’t fix

Drive it to suicide

Like the boatman on the styx

Tell me what happened

Didn’t you control your hands

There’s a sword in lungs

There’s no breath in brain

If sunday skies are still still

Ghost host most of the time

I feel dim

Don’t take my silence for a wisdom clue

World’s to heavy for words

I’ll mute everything

Outside you