I Wasn't Born Of A Whistle Or Milked From A Thistle At Twilight

And the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor
Though no longer bereft, how I shook and I couldn't remember

Then the furthermost shake drove a murthering stake in
And cleft me right down through my center
And I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never



Darling remember, when you come to me
That I’m the pretender
And not what I’m supposed to be
But who could know if I’m a traitor?
Time’s the revelator




And sometimes you don’t need words at all.