somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high
there's a land that i heard of once in a lullaby
somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue
and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true

someday i'll wish upon a star
and wake up where the clouds are far behind me
where troubles melt like lemon drops
away above the chimney tops
that's where you'll find me
somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly
birds fly over the rainbow
why then, oh why can't i?
if happy little bluebirds fly
beyond the rainbow
why, oh why, can't i?


hilde is sickly and the rain is rainy. it's not only a deficiency of sunlight. it not only looks grim, it is grim. people are being pushed out of their homes. people are hanging themselves in garrets. people are jumping from towers. people are getting blown away. i asked my friend at open produce how are you and she said she is alive. we agreed on that, in this time of gentrification, the murderous police state, corporate war, mass extinction, species suicide- it is good to be alive.