Tumbling wings, canary yellow
Pitched beneath a pitch of ancient green
Calling back a drowning song that echoes
Coal mine, coal mine, mine
 mine, mine
Dig deep enough to overturn the gods

100 years later, still tumbling
Feathered under screen glare – digital pitch
Laughing back a drowning song that echoes
Be mine, be mine, mine
mine, mine
Multi-step skincare routine is next to godliness

Tumbling heartrate, temperature rising
Ancient mother keeps her globe of babies afloat
Sending up a drowning song that echoes
Please try, please try, try,
try, try
 As one, then another, slips away from hearing