Pilot

I don't know how to behave Reacting, fists dangling About the same time every day Sometimes an outfit blows in from the street I can bring in the bolts and sleep But the old flag knits and rises Shells and shards dust the yard I wish it was white, I wish it was white But it needs blood for the new erection I try to be light, stop the low talk But I am a coward, and Camus was right You slide like a bangle down the day's arm Waiting the hand to be given away But I don't deserve it, I won't wear it I know it's a gift but Christmas is gone I'm ashamed of the quiet but I want to be silent Always practicing, still no grace I get so anxious I need a tattoo Something binding, that hides me But when the time comes to design it It opens up like height under a pilot Like height under a pilot It opens up like height under a pilot