"So he dropped the web of the spider of heaven down through the clouds
All the way into the pool of blood at the bottom of hell
Far above in heaven a bird flies through the terrible cloud of unknowing
Trust can make a man into a wood, trust can make a man green
An everything that longs to be
Broken and small enough to see
To be held in his hands
To be a part and yet alone
Here he is, reaching for the speed of light
Here he is, reaching for the sound of forgiveness
Now wounding around the waterfront
She listens for a voice
A sign of Mother God, a sign of God the Lad
I long to enter you
With gentleness and compassion
But sorrow is always the open door
I know many days go by and I forget to look up at the stars
I forget there are stars, I forget there is the rest
Thin threads of light follow you around
Through the pale blue, down your skin
Down your skin"
-Rickie Lee Jones
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