"...early in the morning, I'll come calling, I'll come calling after you
darling if you answer, oh we'll wander, down the garden where it's cool
later we'd discover, all in covers, children silent as the stars
early in the morning, in the morning, everything at once is ours
early in the morning, I'll come calling, I'll come calling after you
though you seldom answer, still i wonder, what will pass here when you do
delicate in grasses, bright and ashen, breathing sweet a ruby nest
early in the morning, in the morning, withered, singing we will rest
early in the morning, in the morning, I will call for you
even if the words aren't clear,
and even if my voice seems cruel
early in the morning, in the morning, red and almost true..."
James Vincent McMorrow, my boyyy
I'm a calm morning.
I'm breathing in and out, concentrating on the levels and easiness of it all.
I wake up and step those steps.
And I smile because it's easy, natural.
I'm not forced to laugh, my cheeks are just red a lot now.
It's like I've thrown those inscure delicacies out the window to dissapear with the crisp wind.
I let my hair dance it's usual dance and watch my eyes turn a wild blue green.
It's chiller than chill.
It's a happiness.