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• Artiste: Martin Finke
• Titre: Private Parades
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Was there laughter when we were locked My hand on your mouth when you talked It could only mean treasures and drinking And private parades for your private thinking People believe that I've known you for years And that all of your medals are mine And the fruit that you picked When we started to look like this Then it's turned into wine I could open the door and step into the rain Not knowing the traffic but sure There's a book on the shelf And a new load of delf You'll buy it yourself I'll go with you This isn't my footprint This isn't my town This lost body's been washed up in heaven Like wool on a barb I've been caught on the run On the run from this shimmering flood Of loneliness Was there laughter when we were locked My hand on your mouth when you talked It could only mean treasures and drinking And private parades for your private thinking I cleaned my house and wept So happy that i'd been kept And though I've also done some keeping There's a little weeping left