mutual

well I think I taught a lesson to the bird who lives next door
made it simple made it hard to be sorry not at all
y'see she was trying to make out i was
some kind of city-slumming humpty clumsy house boy
the wasted youth that was and she wanted a real man
but I knew that before the end of all this she'd strike a fatal flaw
and put it all in writing
then I marked her, lecturer fashion

heaven can feel acrobatic and it's mutual
heaven can seem bit erratic and it's mutual
heaven can seethe in self-pity and it's mutual
heaven can drive destinations and it's mutual
heaven could leave with an echo and it's mutual
heaven could stay and be sorry and it's mutual
heaven be cruel be mistaken and it's mutual
heaven could lie and be faking and it's mutual
heaven could slay

travelling car, to land's end
turbulent sleep-walking chin to chin
the traffic lights with blood-shot eyes 
the shock-haired scientist with star-date mind
comes orbiting Jung and Wittgenstein
but heaven got bored and it died of its own accord
she drove on home through fields of snow
through the winter flame to see that light go out again
and it's black in the clubs
and black in the stair that used to define the line