I keep a looming sigh, Hauled away from your heart. To sit to stare in hollow places, To wave to ochre loom masks. And L calls, Falling from there. L calls. L calls, Falling from there. L calls. I kept a moon of spiral lines, In vestige, in shape of what was ours. So when I row through hollow places, I'll stay in your ochre loom grasp. L calls, Falling from there. L calls. L calls, Falling from there, L calls.