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• Artiste: Casey Dienel
• Titre: Hung On A Thin Thread
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Come along in my mackinaw I'll point you where you need to go Though our path may bend and yaw You won't get lost With my pointed prow and square stern We'll use our arms for oars To spoor little schools of fish Make festoon-shaped grooves in the fickle waves 'Til the howling wind ushers us to leave Out at sea for days I sleep most afternoons away And you anxiously compass us 'Til we see land But the land we knew Was now a new landscape And the howling wind ushered us to leave But you wanted a closer look Then gripped to the rail, how our cheeks turned pale To see the flying machines near clip the houses And throw kisses to the sandbar Little tendrils of smoke trailing out of the exhaust In parabolic wakes, swooping low like gulls Causing the town to tremor and to shake It was clear that city was nothing But an aluminium piece of junk Oh, and the howling wind ushered us to leave But we couldn't move we stood forever changed When something ends, something has to begin When the filaments of fiber From their flares caught afire Your hair looked like spark on a wire I would have paid my last dollar To see you lambent like that Lit by the light of ten thousand shackled suns Being hung on a thin thread Sift amongst the debris for half-hearted dreams Remnants of pocket change Pretty, frilly, thrown-away things Gauze and dust and shards of glass Bricks and bended straws and greyhounds' teeth And the howling wind ushered us to leave