i hold in my hand an echo of voice brought on the wings of a bird like a ruby filled vase and a basket with lace the most beautiful sound you have heard my body it aches of a far memory of someone i might have known and theres a hole in the wall too small to see through but im sure its a picture of home sometimes im standing on a mountaintop im nowhere but im not lost but sometimes im just hanging with a heart thats just breaking my arms outstretched on a cross but something keeps pulling a lost letter of love in a cabin where a fire used to be theres a woman whos calling with a voice of fair warning her crooked hand points only at me ashes to ashes mothers turn to ashes daughter soon follows in death but before leaving earth a daughter gives birth a gift to me and she says you hold in your hand an echo of voice brought on the wings of a bird and like a bird who only sings for what every morning brings the most beautiful sound i have heard