Will you look at me cocooned idol all the time awaiting my imago
sucking on my little finger
I’m trying my best to judge the wind
you and me we’re cunningly waiting for somebody else to come and draw the line
awaiting our imago
sucking on each others fingers
we’re trying our best to judge the wind
an ombudsman came and showed me my shame
he told an in-joke he was an old soak
he made me kiss him and I never miss him
and all his vagaries cos he killed my apple trees
I rose again