| Deep asleep |
| Need some waking up |
| Time can’t see what he does to us |
| Shadows fall asleep |
| Thank you, thank you |
| Mind and bodies breathe |
| Thanks |
| Bastard son is in my eyes |
| It takes wholes of lives to see things right |
| I’m the opening of tides |
| There is open and there’s open from the other side |
| Intertwined one in another goes |
| Reassigned souls in flattened time |
| Sad as we are blind |
| I love you, I love you |
| As if sexual |
| The pain flows through |
| Swelling space inside a window |
| Something’s there when «God» and «oh» share height or rate |
| In the old Encino term |
| There is one who separates, in between and low as dirt |
| Living scene |
| It’s what goes up and down |
| Along a street inner vision only sees |
| Ahh place me there |
| I’m with you, I’m with you |
| Life takes me anywhere |
| The blues we share |
| And duration builds its climb |
| You can count on me to darken light |
| In the fields of flowers burned |
| There is one down below, straight beneath who never learns |
| In a need you peel the self from the bones |
| I say |
| Irritate til you’re not needed anymore |
| It’s war |
| Living things have a meaning all their own |
| Breathing sings to the soul like Marian Anderson |