Migraine In Katmandu
If this pit had no bottom ; We'd float like feathers down and down and down and down ; All melancholy farewell ; We would not need to hold on. ; There's a boy I meet in India ; He's full of holes and a big tattoo on his forearm ; He sais that Natraj is the god of destruction for the sake of rebirth ; He sais he's got to go home soon, His folks think he's up to no good ; He plans to sell paper butterflies at festivals to people who can't fly. ; There once was a girl who's face was all scarred up ; From years of trying to be perfect. ; She drank a magic potion that burned off those layers of skin ; Leaving her as fresh as a flower. ; Layers and layers and layers of skin, magic potions, pits without bottoms, paper butterflies... ; I once knew a lady, she couldn't breathe too well ; She had to change houses every year or two ; Some people knew her as very fat and some people knew her as too skinny. ; If I were a figure in a Chinese painting, I'd take small steps. ; I'd carry myself so lightly I'd float through pain ; I'd float through pain ; Some people note three times unhappy, unhappy, unhappy and try not to fall asleep. ; They try to stay watchful and greet whoever wanders in. ; This night isn't dark this night is full of stars ; I haven't locked the gate ; So come night wanderers , come without wanting ; But, please do come without wanting ; wanting ; wanting; 