Snuggling in Not yet asleep You may think you’ve known him All your life But he’s brand new There’s nothing quite as simple as this My baby son’s head Is resting on my shoulder Smelling like sainthood So soft and warm There’s nothing quite as simple as this Some people call it bliss

Hier encore la brume en bandoulière Grisaille de contrebande façon limaille de fer A façonné des spectres au creux des cieux qui me sont intérieurs A l’abordage des chimères qui bordent mes tendres espérances se tapit parfois l’obscur, dur Pourtant je sens aujourd’hui ma paix se propager Les brouillards s’égaillent Le parfum de rouille s’égare Ton alchimie transforme mon aplomb en aurore

What about that apple? The one we disagreed about You thought it looked like The face of an old Polish woman All rugged up for winter I thought it looked like an asteroid Damaged from hurling into space Far too fast for far too long Did you eat it?