Language
If language were liquidIt would be rushing inInstead here we areIn a silence more eloquentThan any word could ever be
These words are too solidThey don't move fast enoughTo catch the blur in the brainThat flies by and is goneGoneGoneGone
I'd like to meet youIn a timeless, placeless placeSomewhere out of contextAnd beyond all consequences
Let's go back to the building(Words are too solid)On Little West TwelfthIt is not far away(They don't move fast enough)And the river is thereAnd the sun and the spacesAre all laying low(To catch the blur in the brain)And we'll sit in the silence(That flies by and is)That comes rushing in and isGone (Gone)
I won't use words againThey don't mean what I meantThey don't say what I saidThey're just the crust of the meaningWith realms underneathNever touchedNever stirredNever even moved through
If language were liquidIt would be rushing inInstead here we areIn a silence more eloquentThan any word could ever be
And is goneGoneGoneAnd is gone