Alice in the lighthouse and it’s always night
the moon is descending
the gramophone is alive
and singing
she can’t explain on paper, can’t think straight to write
so much before goodbye
but who would ever see the light, the way it shines
through Alice’s eyes
Alice in the city with no peace or quiet
now treatment is teaching
but her head is still wired, receiving
she’ll take it to Mt. Wilson from the magpie cage
no money, no designs
and will they be surprised
open letter and no-one
to read or to return
observers all, and all so far away
like Mt. Wilson from the magpie cage
in Alice’s eyes
sublimely surprised
in Alice’s eyes
and no-one may ever know this again
we’re hanging by a thousand threads
the beautiful children and beckoning hands
and everything makes sense
open letter and no-one
to read or to return
observers all, and all so far away
like Mt. Wilson from the magpie cage