Down The Lane, I Breathe Out Loud In Half Frozen Air.

And The Black Amnesias In Heaven Are Lighting A Half Moon On The Stairs.

And I Bite My Lip When I Breathe Out Loud.

Wrapped In Japanese Paper All The Way Around.

California Can't See The Sun Rise,

Because Smoke Doesn't Climb Like It Lingers.

Runs Long On A Broken Lung.