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letra de catherine from mid-october - robert pollard

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such a lush you lay your hands
you can always make me crawl
i’m no longer to go there
where you take me to your home

our home
our christmas selves our bones
with all thoughtfulness and carelessness betold
to the autumn of our categories

and the rose colored remains
and the walls are stamped in blue
for recapturing and gained
and the stains are born renewed

don’t go
we’ll reactivate your phone
for the opеning of mouse and covers blown
and the wintеr of our declarations

“you’re not taking up my time?”
“i’m not.”
“you’re doubling my time.”
“no.”
“um…and then i didn’t come into this world, i came out of this world. so i, uh…”
“what do you mean you came out of this world?”
“if i can…this world is very limited, and, um, it’s my responsibility to make everyone better for having come into contact with me.”
“that’s a good philosophy, if the world was limited. you know what that is? that’s chinese.”
“and i don’t…there’s nothing anyone can do for me that i can’t do for myself.”

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