Weather systems Distant foghorns and some milky tea Amber scattered On the shores Washed up from ancient forest floors The earth pulls softly at my skin Beckoning me home again No more beaches or old guitars Just a skeleton Asleep among the stars A skeleton asleep among the stars The snow falls wet In Amsterdam Rusting bicycles and quiet trams And bakery smells And market stalls And houseboats in their Dark canals The earth pulls softly...