Bells in the Crooked Port

What's this hell? What's this pen? Put me in the hole with the rest of the men? Who you going to call at the station? I need matrimony said the captain to his pony: listening for motors (from the ditch then)... oh water in the town water in the sound - water takes the valleys and it puts them in the ground: oh no not again!

Water by the trees water in the station (wherein the identification documents float from room to room): water from (and was birthed in) the birdland closed conservation. (said the shepherd) What's this hell? The earth does bend? Drown with the hunted and the hunter in his pen: la la I knew this man at the station (before the trucks disappeared) I need matrimony said the Cossack to his pony la la: listening for motors oh.. to party on the ground to puke on the ground to call your former mystic and you tell him he is found: not again!

You were born last and forced to breathe (but not to) drown with the hunter in the coarse brown sleeve: not again! Oh running from the polis you were passing in the forest and condition myself to believe in operating forests: you better think about woodcutters and the burning of the station la la I hear the motors and I hear the matrons and I hear the (groaning of) the Polis with the blessed birdland patron (a sort of Patroclus of the ages) I know myself I know myself I was cut from evil fabric but my nurse knows better health: you better think about woodcutters and lights on: lights on!