Laurie Anderson

What's this? A little dust in my eye
Well I'm not the type to cry
It's four a.m. I'm standing by the bed where you lie
Sleeping the sleep of the newborn
I put [my] finger to your lips. Warm air.
Five a.m. You lift your hand and open it.
Then you slipped away. You slipped away.
Oh death, that creep, that crooked jerk...
He comes, he comes walking. He comes sneaking
Down that long irreversible hallway
Grabs you in your sleep
I walk outside to the parking lot.
Bright coins of water on the sidewalk.
Big white building where your body lies
Stands in the middle of the fields. Icy air.
And after all the shocks the way the heart unlocks
And ooo we slip away. We slip away.
I'm thinking about the way that lost things always come back
Looking like something else
A fishing pole, a shoe, an old shirt, a lucky day