Clientele, The
Three Month Summers
Three Month SummersIn the haunted suburbs passYour tea leaves in your glassYou think you're Paul VerlaineHelen in the RhododendronsStole your clothesI lost myself, I vanished ina brief, ecstatic rainAutumn round the cornerWith its eerinessSomeone's smoking in a hatchbackScrewing on your lawnLate that year I caught a glimpseInside the treesI cannot tell you what I sawI was somebody elseAs I singThe night is clearThe swallows fly in from nowhereFrom nowhereI never saw them beforeI never saw them beforeI never saw them before
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