I'm going down,
I'm going London.
returning to soil.
returning to seed.
I don't know where I've been,
but it is not here where I belong.
So, I will sleep now
and i will dream of tomorrow
On the branch of the wild pear tree
he sits, a spangled starling.
Each morning I watch for him,
with the sun he comes with song.
In the breath that moves
through wooden flutes.
in the sigh
of the strings of a dilruba,
in the lament of a spanish guitar,
I remember
here in the soil,
I remember
here in the seed,
I remember
I'm going down,
I'm going under.
I'm returning to soil.
I'm returning to seed.
i'm returning to you
I don't know where I've been,
but it is not here with you where I belong.
So, I will sleep now and dream of tomorrow,
So, I will sleep now and dream of tomorrow