Parakeet

You wake up in the morning And fall out of your bed Mean cats eat parakeets And this one's nearly dead You dearly wish the wind would shift And greasy window slide Open for the parakeet Who's colored bitter lime Open the window To lift into your dreams Baby, baby You can barely breathe Broken wrist, an accident You know that something's wrong You fold the leavings of your past No one knows you've gone The sunspot flares of the early 90s Light up your wings And scan the shortwave radio It's tracking outer rings Open the window To lift into a dream Baby, baby You can start to breathe The tectonic dispatcher shifts To smooth the ocean floor And flattens out to warmer winds Of Brisbane's sunny shore Where Buddhas tend to mending wrists A tea made from the leaves Of eucalyptus fragrances And coriander seeds Open the window To lift into a dream Baby, baby You can start to breathe Open the window To lift into a dream Baby, baby You can start to breathe You wake up in the morning To warm Pacific breeze Where mean cats chew on licorice And cannot climb the trees