The Windowpane Songtext
von Jo Mango

There is a dot
There is an itch
There is a loneliness
The tapping of a fingertip

There is a pearl
There is a pig
A bitter fruitfulness
The scratching of an earwig

The dredger scrapes along the sound
And passes by our door
I feel the churning of the silt
The raising of the stoor
The darkening of the river skies
The veiling of the shore

I am a wing
I am a chain
A reaching out for it
The azure of the windowpane
Between the mirror skies


Oh what is it that I have prayed
So hard for you to wake
That then should make me so afraid
Of everything you take?
And why is it your hand is here
Beyond the reach of joy
In blind recesses of the spheres
That make of me a toy?

This kicking thing inside of me
It never will be owned
By all the violence of desire
That makes a feeling grown

Oh, who can parse the sentences
Speaking out our past?
Or work at this entanglement
Of root and branch and mass?
How delicate the fingers are
To tease apart the veins
But still I feel the weightiness
Of all that will remain

The spooling out inside of me
Or everything I′ve known
And all the animus and the fire
The ravelling has shown


Feed a cold and starve a fever
Spare the rod and spoil the dreamer
First deserve and then desire
Burn the house and blame the fire

There is a fork
There is a choice
There is a still, small voice