Strange Language

Up on the bluff, where I wish I was

Twisting up the pages of history

My cold feet dangling, my bony arms gesturing

To summon up a little chunk of that historyIn the corridor the shadows are long

And it messes with my equilibrium

And there's strains of a strange languageUp on the bluff, where the hardwoods jut

Out toward the gusts of history

My crusty mind cracks, my restless heart tracks

The fractal lines of historyIn the corridor the shadows are long

And it messes with my equilibrium

And there's strains of a strange language