she lives in this house over there,
has her world outside it.
grapples with the earth with her fingers
and her mouth--she's five years old.
thread worms on a string,
keeps spiders in her pocket,
collects fly-wings in a jar scrubs horse flies
and pinches them on a line.
she's got one friend he lives next door,
they listen to the weather,
he knows how many freckles she's got,
she scratches his beard.
she's painting huge books,
glues them together,
they saw a big raven;
it glided down the sky--she touched it.
today's a birth-dat--they're sucking cigars,
he got a chain of flowers,
sows a bird in her knickers,
they're sucking cigars,
lie in the bathtub,
chain of flowers.
- Bjork's song Birthday. It will be wonderful, a birthday like this.