Björk

She lives in this house over there,
Has her world outside it.
Grapples the earth with her fingers
And her mouth, she´s five years old.

Threats worms on a string,
Keeps spiders in her pockets,
Collects fly-wings in a jar
Scrubs horse-flies and pinches them on a line.

She has one friend he lives next door,
They listen to the weather,
He knows how many freckles she´s got,
She scratches his beard.

She´s painting huge books,
And glues them together,
They saw a big raven,
It glided down the sky, she touched it.

Today is a birthday
They´re smocking cigars,
He´s got a chain of flowers,
And sows a bird in her knickers,

They´re smocking cigars,
They lie in the bathtub,
A chain of flowers.