Alison Moyet - The Impervious Me

You may ask the mirror
Show me perfect hair
That the room entire might welcome you
Then
When laying out your raiment
What am I to wear?
Slipping on the thread that wears you

Hung like fallen scarves on a street wall
For returning hands to find
Stripped by magazines in the yearning
Of waiting rooms for authors to your time

The days will fly like pink confetti
Your fists unfurled
But if you land the blow
Everybody gets hurt
You learn the lines by rote, not knowing which words to keep
They switch them while you sleep
So rouse yourself to brief
The Impervious Me

You may sift for summer
Such horizons there
Throw a wheel and trust it turns for you
Then go and ask your mirror
What of me to share?
Am I in the place I left you?

Strung like silver chimes in a doorway
For a passing breeze to sound
Loosed like falling leaves out of reason
Seasoned to be motif for the ground

The days will fly like pink confetti
Your fists unfurled
And if you land a blow
Everybody gets hurt
You learn your lines and note by measure which words you'll need
You gift them when you sleep
So steel yourself and greet the
Impervious me
Imperviously

The days will fly like pink confetti
Your fists unfurled
And if you land the blow
Everybody gets hurt
You learn your lines by rote, not knowing which words to keep
They gift them while you sleep
So steel yourself to meet...