MY JOY
David Benouaisch
I was biting the hand that had fed me
I was lying and you believed me
I was crying to you that my heart had been broken
You were dancing like Christopher Walken
Out in the woods where the Black Bird is your game
You were hiding from me and I was calling your name
You were a hunter chasing a crow
I was your brother lost in the snow
My Joy my accomplice my friend
We’re getting to the day when your days end
You were born in the winter and the river was frozen
You will die in December in a bed you’ve not chosen