I'm looking out the window of an old hotel
Something here is rattling, can't see too well
The breeze is rolling in since the heater broke
The wind begins to flutter on my lover's cloak

I recall some ancient melody, a wind-swept song
The words are flooding to me, but they're all wrong
A pen becomes a dagger as ink becomes blood
As sand mixes with water and converts to mud

I closed my eyes in hopes of finding some inner glow
Discerning unreality and unearthing what I know
Distorted highways rolled into my closed eyelids
Mountains can't remember me or what I did

A bandage wraps around my porcelain wrist
Salvation hammers amnesty in parting mist
The lists of history begin to burn with force
I scream my poems to the wind until I'm hoarse

I wake unto a waiting sky of green and gold
The wanderers and wonderers have bought and sold
The dreams of ancient mariners and railroad flats
Slaves in shackles, daughters to aristocrats