i bathe in light and watch the steam whispering perfect milky porcelain it is not me my pressed down soul henri henri through you i see a mother s love no room for me i gave my sons all that i had one flew on home life s bitter seed the other broke never a man he paints me now my pressed down soul henri henri through you i see a mother s love no room for me he paints the gleam of china fine the hue of day a sharp white wine green lungs that breathe outside my door my pressed down soul