Half an orange moon
And sweet baby's breath
Take me back to Dali-land
The radio's a car away - it's tune
Drifts off and dies a timely death
My voice inside my head
Unusually loud and bland
And yet outside I speak a tinny squeak
That echoes like a hollow joke
Inside some Escher room
And leaves me wondering who spoke
My Salvador has opened too
An answer to my knocking blood
It's but a year ago I could
Be sure I had one name no other
And now it seems the me is swallowed up
Inside the mother