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