Lyrics:

Collections yes,
You're a dutiful horse
Made cluttered by
My feathered course

Anywhere, any room
Windows I've been crawling through

Threw your arms
Saw you shake your hands
Gestures and broken English
Yeah, I understand.

Lying down in sense and grief
Inventiveness
Like buying something sweet

Born to nurse, quip and stick
To what you say
Spinning thread to what I said
Yesterday

Anywhere, any room
Tell me something I can use