Down to the pottery
Watching his hands slip
His round body
And cracked lips

Trimming time is not ideal
To talk about
The fireplace inside
When I have you around
Under the same age, we
Wouldn't be allowed to be
Like leather-hands to fire

Please let me come in
I'll be an apprentice
The glazeware chips
In the dreams of my mind

Down to the pottery
(Flip it over, take it to the fire)
Watching his hands slip
(Glaze it all over until it's watertight)
His round body
(Wedge the clay, cut it with a knife)
And cracked lips
(Dry with heat, dry)

Shape it, mold it
We'll have a perfect piece
Teach this knowledge
Of handling it so wisely (with care)
So wise, so wise