She lies down, stretching out across the trunk of a walnut tree cut during the spring.
All that's left of its bark are a few shreds, gradually withering away.
With her back resting between
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Every day I wake up weirder than the last.
I am a fish with scales instead of years.
I am a snail, body curled in a shell,
Born again every day
From orange and pink dust.
I breathe underwater
I tread on land
I can go days without food
Or change my name to Gluttony,
and the current will still take me on
and on,
and on,
and on,
until the end of time.
I am a fish with scales instead of years.
I am a snail, body curled in a shell,
Born again every day
From orange and pink dust.
I breathe underwater
I tread on land
I can go days without food
Or change my name to Gluttony,
and the current will still take me on
and on,
and on,
and on,
until the end of time.