The boy kneels,
The bows contend,
The sky yields
We are gone
Like dandelion down
To the whither-world found
Whiteness comes
From all around
To the painting on the ground
Nothing is making the world turn round,
Nothing is drawing a sound
So we come and go
With the flow,
Blow away
The road ends,
The car reels,
We all pretend
We've made deals
To the one
We've never really known
From the polo ground home
Changes come
Through yellow phones
On tapestries of foam
Nothing is making the world turn round,
Nothing is drawing a sound
So we come and go
With the flow,
Blow away
We are together all the way,
Wanting the other to say,
Everything that isn't there,
All we wouldn't dare
The palms mend,
The trees feel,
Doves befriend
The unreal,
Call the sun
In the hummingbird song,
Agapanthus sings along
Gardens come
From distant lands,
Lift flowers to our hands
Nothing is making the world turn round,
Nothing is drawing a sound
So we come and go
With the flow,
Blow away