I burnt some bushes
words hooked up, snagged on thorns
they just burnt - thats what they do - no choice
Things happen that way in songs - some songs
the words come out - there is a scream-fire and they are gone
the cooling wind - it feeds the flames
Words tangled in the sticks - torn
fading on paper - signs of things we will not be instructed to do (we do what we like)
Voices calling and singing birds, in the burnt bushes
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