Testo Ways Of Seeing

I saw a fight break out at Wembley
The whack and split of fist and kick was carcasses on a hook
I kissed him with the river churning
Out a steady pattern of Hockney water on our tongues
I pushed my head into his waiting shoulder
Show me how to move, brother, like a single proof

My friend, I heard the birds in chorus Singing out in blue-black hues
That was the river, too

That was the river, too
That sadness was the river, too

With hand on shoulder, stomach, neck
We twisted out of freedom, blessed in a silent dream
Greedy for that steady touch
As if this now, this tender grasping newness
Washes around the bend
I visit you in football stadiums
The seats erupt in plastic slap, my head is on your lap

My friend, I heard the birds in chorus Singing out in blue-black hues
That was the river, too

That was the river, too
That sadness was the river, too
That was the river, too
That sadness was the river, too