Claymine Rhythm

One chair pulled out at the dining table

Writing a message but I'm not able

To press send

At the door he checks my ID twice

Cold clay on my hands,

heavy advice

From a friend Spinning wheels and wet grey clay

Trying to shape what I couldn't say

(trying to shape it)

And we go round and round again

(round and round!) Under the late-night studio fan Clay on our hands,

the wheel won't stop Let the message go,

let the heavy weight drop

He checks my ID once again

I'm staring at the screens of men Who look like me

Wet hands on a porcelain vase Trying to memorize your face In

the gallery

One chair, one room

We shape our doom

(we shape it, we shape it)

Let the weight drop...

(round and round)