letra de thousands of hours of birds - william doyle
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the morning happened in a torrent
of thousands of hours of birds
we looked outside with wider eyes upon
the still of nothingness, emergent
the brickwork spread across a depth of field
each house that caught the light seemed so unreal
and in that afterglow we figured out
the sp-ce around us was impermanent
but what happened to us
at the cost of what it was
in blood and/or treasure
to make us feel so lost?
love happens to us
if we let it happen first
when we thought fortune forgot
but it blooms in the distance
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