Early Widows

I am a fly on the wall of house
Where the windows are always broken
I am a pause in a storm on a dark stair
Whenever your name is spoken

Be a man about this
Be the coward or the kiss
Be a man about this

Somewhere there is salt
In the air of a season
That touches the hem
Of an island so northern
Some air is knitting a day for a woman
Who's eyes are upon the horizon

Be a man about this
Be the boredom or the bliss
Be a man about this

Be the number or the name
Be the picture or the frame
Be the shoulder or the shame
Be the moth or flame

I am the birth of a dawn through a curtain
The hurt of a dawn through a curtain

Be a man about this
Be a man about this
Be a man about this
Be a man about this