Pilgrim

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Art Block

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The pilgrim asked where's your father now?
He's in bed, he's long since been dead
My mother fell from the angels in the cloud
To her rest in the soil of the west
She drew a seam from a Singer machine
A needle drilled into patchwork quilts
My father had said, it wasn't good enough
So she coughed up jewels in her blood
A painted shell
A piece of veil
I stand alone, watching upset souls
In the sea, shimmering lovingly
In the dusk, my heart becomes a rusk
Ignite my soul
A diamond from a piece of coal
A subtle dream, an intoxicating scheme
We rise above all the heavenly
A little dome
We'll fly forever home
I was born in an East London sky
To a chance buried deep inside
A painted shell
A piece of veil
I stand alone, watching upset souls
In the sea, shimmering lovingly
In the dusk, my heart becomes a rusk

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