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• Artiste: Cataldo
• Titre: Fog on the Glass
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One rare morning I awake and in a not small part of me I'm shook by a feeling of grace a feeling of grace Rain may patter, the wind may hiss but it’s not so much forgetting relics that hung close to me lose their grip they lose their grip And we’re all composed of some old belief you can’t make little cuts until you feel clean of your memories But if you ever feel when you’re looking back it would make you sick to get past the past just breathe quick and cough ‘til you fog up the glass ‘til you fog up the glass You can smooth the wood, sand down the burl but to a certain extent our history is irrevocable irrevocable And after all this hand-wringing there’s still shifts in my breast my old body, new body a cognate misleading at best And if you ever feel when you’re looking back it would make you sick to get past the past just breathe quick ‘til you fog up the glass ‘til you fog up the glass