Scarecrow in a pale dressnFace pressed on this greasy gas station windownWhite River, OntarionSidelong looks at boys nLined up like beer cans on a fencenPissing away this blurry afternoonnnAnd under her breath she saysnWould you pick me up?nI'm light as a feathernThough I'm not afraidnI am not brave enough to offernnHe was beautiful and meannCould never put things rightnAt seven stole a bottle and chose his antidotenFaked his own death at fourteennLeft his clothes and a note by the riverbednAnd floated awaynnWon't you pick me up?nI'm light as a feathernThough I'm not afraidnI am not brave enough to offernnStation wagon fullnFamily of six rattling homenThe long way down the Trans-CanadanBlack bird on a hydrowirenPlummets as they passnWho turns to watch as it lands in the muddy fieldnnWon't you pick me up?nI'm light as a feathernThough I'm not afraidnI am not brave enough to offernPick me upnI'm light as a feathernI am not afraid