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I stopped believing, you start to move
(She was like wine turned to water then turned back to wine)
I stopped my leaving and the better man bloomed
(And you can pour us out and we won’t mind)

I was dead then alive,
She was like wine turned to water then turned back to wine;
You can pour us out, we won’t mind,
As scratch around the mouth of the glass, “Our lives our not our own.”

Even the wind lay still,
Our essence was fire and cold and movement, movement…
Oh, if they ask you for the sign of the father in you,
Tell them it’s movement, movement, movement and
repose.

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