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Tiny darling ghost holder |
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Tiny darling ghost holder |
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You our soft spirit breather |
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You our bark skinned weaver |
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Remember you could weep fire |
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Remember you could weep fire with wild eyes |
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With wild eyes, ooo with those wild eyes |
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If you ring your cells like bells in a garden that |
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You plant your burdens way deep down in |
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And water them daily from wells of salty |
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Guilt for sons who polinate the deadly |
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That wild eye, ooo that wild eye |
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Pape my pine whistler sparrow-eyed sun misser |
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Papa my pine whistler sparrow-eyed moon blisser |
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Mama my jaw clincher spirit mouth ghost dancer |
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Mama my vein braider thousand year bone burner |
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Mama my tongue twister thousand pronged antlers |
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Mama my tongue twister thousand pronged antlers |
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Mama my vein braider thousand pronged antlers, antlers |
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And ooo her wild eyes, ooo her wild eyes |
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So I will ring my cells like bells as you |
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Bind your father's molecules with roots of silver |
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Pierce him cedars with eyes like fingers |
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Picking bloody flowers |
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His wild eyes, ooo his wild eyes |
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Pape my pine whistler sparrow-eyed sun misser |
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Papa my pine whistler sparrow-eyed moon blisser |
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Mama my jaw clincher spirit mouth ghost dancer |
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Mama my vein braider thousand year bone burner |
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Mama my tongue twister thousand pronged antlers |
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Mama my tongue twister thousand pronged antlers |
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Mama my vein braider thousand pronged antlers, antlers |
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And ooo her wild eyes, ooo her wild eyes |
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Tiny green moss collector |
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Sweet tiny green moss collector |
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Remember you could catch fire |
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Remember you could catch fire with wild eyes |
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With wild eyes, ooo with those wild eyes |
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And once the river is rolling lower |
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We'll father lichen from the boulders |
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We'll keep it dry inside out lockets |
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We'll put this down into our pockets |
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We'll try... |
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To leave the branch arms behind |
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The swaying hands of pines |
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Their needles tugging at your skin |
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Trying to pull you back deep in their wooden womb |
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Of a hundred hearts hanging, suspended, moth-eaten |
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Those muscles the size of your fist |
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All floating around your head |
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Not knowing who they're a loving |
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Not knowing how fast they're a pumping |
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Not knowing how hard they're a beating |
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Not knowing who they're a punching |
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Those muscles the size of your fist |
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All floating around your head |
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And throwing punches like we throw the stones to |
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The bottom of river beds |
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Who knows whose next? |
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To watch from under the currents |
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The rapids rapidly raging while rapid |
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While we're rapidly blinking our wild |
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Our wild eyes |
