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SABELLA OFFICIAL
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I hear a wind chime choir raise its voice with the impending storm
As I press my lips against a bottle on my front porch
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I hear your voice on the phone
Your cigarette-stained vocal cords
As you whisper to me about your day
I fall asleep
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And I want to be in that room
Looking out your window at Texas
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But dreams die as the light dances across glistening pastures and the passing of time
With tears in my eyes I accept it
Nothing matters
Nothing matters
I screamed it over and over and over
All the spaces we wander
The light that we bend
The golden hours, rushing
All the lovely by needs must be ending
I cry because it all has mattered so much to me
How joyous our passing?
Our Irish goodbyes
The sun on the side of the road when the engine dies
The beautiful ache of all our little secrets
Small wonders for only our eyes