Cabbage Song
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Flaubert spent two months trying to describe a cabbage
I spent a morning trying to write you a song
I tried to sum up the skies of your wonderful eyes
But the words that I chose were all wrong
The warm winds are humming, a cold front is coming
It makes me uneasy and prone to displays
Of heinous behaviour, oh now do me a favour
And forgive me for what I may say or not say to you
Indoors, with the exits bolted shut
You arrive home, tell me
โOpen up the windows, let some of the climate inโ
The birds wะตre so pretty in the Soviะตt states
They stood out amidst all the grey
But weโre not in Moscow and, darling, you donโt need concrete
To stand out in your radiant way
Cause youโre the knees of the angels
Youโre the cool breeze of April
Youโre the full wrath of god on my delicate heart
Youโre the blue light of evening
Youโre the swallows believing
That overdue rain will soon start
And not stop