Perfect Life
Steven Wilson
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When I was 13 I had a sister for 6 months
She arrived one february morning
Pale and shellshocked, from past lives I could not imagine
She was 3 years older than me, but in no time we became friends
We’d listen to her mix tapes; Dead Can Dance, Filter, This Mortal Coil
She introduced me to her favourite books, gave me clothes, and my first cigarette
Sometimes we would head down to Blackbirds Moor
To watch the barges on Grand Union in the twilight.
She said “the water has no memory.”
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For a few months everything about our lives was perfect
It was only us, we were inseparable
But gradually, she passed into another distant part of my memory
Until I could no longer remember her face
Her voice, even her name
We have got
We have got the perfect life...