Pilot - Aldous Harding

I don’t know how to behave

Reacting, fists dangling

About the same time every day

Sometimes an outfit blows in from the street

I can bring in the bolts and sleep

But the old flag knits and rises

Shells and shards dust the yard

I wish it was white, I wish it was white

But it needs blood for the new erection

I try to be light, stop the low talk

But I am a coward, and Camus was right

You slide like a bangle down the day’s arm

Waiting the hand to be given away

But I don’t deserve it, I won’t wear it

I know it’s a gift but Christmas is gone

I’m ashamed of the quiet but I want to be silent

Always practicing, still no grace

I get so anxious I need a tattoo

Something binding, that hides me

But when the time comes to design it

It opens up like height under a pilot

Like height under a pilot

It opens up like height under a pilot