UntuitionHard to follow



A foreigner in your nativity

And every time you toot my horn
I don my hooves
My face goes red
And into the room, I’m coming

Spend dollar notes made of my skin
Make a bargain, call it sin
A barn erected, wood, not tin
A man never born, of woman who never…

And merry that they were
Around other goats thereafter
Lorn as I was down here
Joyous as they were, up in the rafters