Migraine In Katmandu

If this pit had no bottom
We'd float like feathers down and down and down and down
All melancholy farewell
We would not need to hold on.

There's a boy I meet in India
He's full of holes and a big tattoo on his forearm
He sais that Natraj is the god of destruction for the sake of rebirth
He sais he's got to go home soon, His folks think he's up to no good
He plans to sell paper butterflies at festivals to people who can't fly.

There once was a girl who's face was all scarred up
From years of trying to be perfect.
She drank a magic potion that burned off those layers of skin
Leaving her as fresh as a flower.

Layers and layers and layers of skin, magic potions, pits without bottoms, paper butterflies...

I once knew a lady, she couldn't breathe too well
She had to change houses every year or two
Some people knew her as very fat and some people knew her as too skinny.

If I were a figure in a Chinese painting, I'd take small steps.
I'd carry myself so lightly I'd float through pain
I'd float through pain

Some people note three times unhappy, unhappy, unhappy and try not to fall asleep.
They try to stay watchful and greet whoever wanders in.

This night isn't dark this night is full of stars
I haven't locked the gate
So come night wanderers , come without wanting
But, please do come without wanting
wanting
wanting

מילים: אביטל רז, לחן: אביטל רז