You sit alone on a wooden shelf
A lonely piece of your former self
The attic air is a heavy weight
You watch the door and you wait for fate
Your glaze is cracked like a desert floor
You don't remember the open door
A chip of white on your jagged rim
The morning light is a ghostly hymn
Catch the gold in your hollow base
Feel the heat on your ceramic face
Drinking light from a dusty sky
Wait for the sun just to pass you by
The Solanum grows wild outside
In the garden where the beetles hide
You see the green through the window pane
Waiting for water and summer rain
Catch the gold in your hollow base
Feel the heat on your ceramic face
Drinking light from a dusty sky
Wait for the sun just to be high
Deep in the loam where the roots take hold
Patiently turning the grey to gold
No more coffee and no more steam
Just the slow pulse of a winter dream
The spider weaves a thin silver thread
Around the place where the old books spread
You hold the glare of the early noon
Hoping the rescue is coming soon
The Latin names of the ivy vine
Tangle around in a crooked line
You are a vessel of baked red clay
Counting the hours of every day
Catch the gold in your hollow base
Feel the heat on your ceramic face
Drinking light from a dusty sky
Wait for the sun just to pass you by
Just stay gold.
Stay gold in the light.
Stay gold.
