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I'll go when the sun gets lower. Down by the bridge, where the amber water pools and foam gathers in stones by the shore. [All along the river, waterstriders play.] I'm thinking about... I'm thinking about... I'm thinking about... You are descended from the slaves who escaped to here in the early days. Bones weathering from the embankment after the ice broke. I'm thinking about forever. I'm thinking about staying. I'm thinking about... I'm thinking about how close you came to dying. When I die please bury me underneath the hanging tree. I want to lie with these questions forever. From Letras Mania