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GThe jacaranda areC wet with color,
And the Gheat is a great paint brush, Dlending color to our lives,
To thGe air, and to out faces; but i'm Cgoing to alaska
Where there's Gsnow to suck the sound outD from the air.
CG
GUp, yes,C in the branches,
GThe purple blossoms, go Dpale at the edges;
There is Gmoaning in the shifting of the Csap, and i see in them traces
GOf last year, but then they Dhadn't grown so strong,
GAnd their limbs were more like wires.C now they are cables.
GThick and alive with alien eDlectricity, and i am Ggoing to alaska,
WhereC you can go blind just by Glooking at the ground,
DWhere fat is eaten by itself
CJust to keep your body warGm.
GBecause from where we are Cnow, it seems, really,
ThatG everything is growing in a Dthousand different ways;
GThat the soil is soaked through with old Cblood and with relatives
GWho were buried here, or close to here, and Dthey are giving rise
GTo what is happening. or can you Ctell me otherwise?
I am Ggoing to alaska, where the Danimals can kill you,
But theyG do so in silence, as Cthough if no-one hears them,
Then it Greally won't matter. i am Dgoing to alaska.
CThey tell me that it's perfect for my Gpurposes.
GCGD
GCGDG
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