It's tricky when
You feel someone
Has done
Something on your behalf

It's slippery when
Your sense of justice
Murmurs underneath

And is asking you
How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?

With a palm full of stars
I throw them like dice
(repeatedly)

On the table
(repeat - repeatedly)
I shake them like dice
And throw them on the table
Repeatedly
(repeatedly)
Until the desired constellation appears

How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?

(And you hear - how am I going to make it right?)

How am I going to make it right?
How am I going to make it right?

(How am I going to make it right?)

by Bjork, Medulla

( E.E. Cummings Poem - 'it may not always be so' )

It may not always be so
And I say
And if your lips
Which I have loved
Should touch another's
And your dear strong fingers clutch
Her heart
As mine in time
Not far away

If on another's face your sweet hair lay
In such a silence
As I know
Or such great writhing words
As, uttering overmuch
Stand helpelessly before the spirit at bay

If this should be
I say
If this should be
You of my heart
Send me a little word
That I may go
Unto her
And take her hands
Saying

Accept all happiness from me

Then I shall turn my face
And hear one bird
Sing terribly afar
In the lost lands

by Bjork, Medulla

you can tell
from the scars on my arms
and cracks in my hips
and the dents in my car
and the blisters on my lips
that i'm not the carefullest of girls

you can tell
from the glass on the floor
and the strings that're breaking
and i keep on breaking more
and it looks like i am shaking
but it's just the temperature
and then again
if it were any colder i could disengage
if i were any older i could act my age
but i dont think that youd believe me
it's
not
the
way
i'm
meant
to
be
it's just the way the operation made me

and you can tell
from the state of my room
that they let me out too soon
and the pills that i ate
came a couple years too late
and ive got some issues to work through
there i go again
pretending to be you
make-believing
that i have a soul beneath the surface
trying to convince you
it was accidentally on purpose

i am not so serious
this passion is a plagiarism
i might join your century
but only on a rare occasion
i was taken out
before the labor pains set in and now
behold the world's worst accident
i am the girl anachronism

and you can tell
by the red in my eyes
and the bruises on my thighs
and the knots in my hair
and the bathtub full of flies
that i'm not right now at all
there i go again
pretending that i'll fall
don't call the doctors
cause they've seen it all before
they'll say just
let
her
crash
and
burn
she'll learn
the attention just encourages her

and you can tell
from the full-body cast
that i'm sorry that i asked
though you did everything you could
(like any decent person would)
but i might be catching so don't touch
you'll start believeing youre immune to gravity and stuff
don't get me wet
because the bandages will all come off

and you can tell
from the smoke at the stake
that the current state is critical
well it is the little things, for instance:
in the time it takes to break it she can make up ten excuses:
please excuse her for the day, its just the way the medication makes her...

i dont necessarily believe there is a cure for this
so i might join your century but only as a doubtful guest
i was too precarious removed as a caesarian
behold the worlds worst accident
I AM THE GIRL ANACHRONISM