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Black Lamb
If this age is going to change me then let it change me by degree.
If I become something disgusting I'll just retrace my steps and leave.
But what a cowardly thing：to know the notes but not sing.
So let the tall grass creep up into my wheel-wells.
And let the grey paint-speckled husk betray the way I lived while
I was being born in travel. Every breath was summer air.
Not a black lamb reading Vanity Fair.
And when you look into the mirror and see a shivering actress.
And you half forget the difference between the blond girl and the black dress.
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Well don't dwell too much on that. You know the steps so just dance.
And let the tall grass creep up into my wheel-wells
And let the grey paint-speckled husk betray the way I lived while
I was being born in travel. Every breath was summer air.
Not a black lamb reading Vanity Fair.
Not the town drunk screaming that my shot wasn't fair.
Not a dry eye blinking and trying hard not to stare.
Not a black lamb reading Vanity Fair.
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