Nope.

There isn't a love song I'm happy with. Nope, not one at all. There isn't a dream I haven't had.
Maybe the best thing for me to do tonight is, raise my glass to the bar.
And hope that somehow, the bar man can give me what I'm thirstin' for.
I'mma thirsty.

Here, I have a prayer.

My love I send to Hwana.
My love I send to the series of Yu(oo)'s.
My love I send to the bear I miss over the ocean.
My love I send to a boy, who I'd pray smells the same as I left him.
My love I send to the ladies who dress as the finest of china; just dance.
My love; from a yellow bird on top of a lonely mountain.
It was a long long time ago.

My fears for the countryside you call home.
My fears for the roads that you travel on each day.
My fears for the seas you sail on, and the skies that you fly.
My fears for you, my dear.
It's not so safe, now.

My hopes for your nights.
My hopes for your bustling city transactions and your fine pen.
My hopes for your art that you ignore whilst money is on the agenda.
My hopes that money will not deter you from happiness.
I hope you're happy.

My dreams fly me over the ocean.
My dreams to whisper in secrets with you, that they don't know at home.
My dreams to be awake again in two years time.
My dreams come to me as I sleep on the floor.
In the afternoon sun.

The cranes hanging on my window are still tonight. There is no breeze to stir them. Their heads are turned in mismatched directions, as if they aren't sure how exactly to go about their migration. They don't know where to start. Neither do I.

Deer wearing the mask of a bear.
Bear face.
Deer heart.