|
The lashes all are growing |
|
To hide behind you |
|
Enjoy moving people |
|
Who wake before noon |
|
Anger stars another |
|
Open your eye |
|
Take the off opinion |
|
And start up your mouth |
|
To shovel, is to want in |
|
Welcome your way |
|
There's a room to sell here |
|
With forestry gates |
|
Bone yard shakes and rattles |
|
In time that you like |
|
Take the off opinion |
|
And wake before noon |
|
And if one thing led to it all |
|
Like the ones before you standing way too tall |
|
Grab your ladder, |
|
Then you might avoid the fall |
|
So steep |
|
The two winds that are blowing |
|
Are hiding in you |
|
You know moving people |
|
Who don't care for bloom |
|
Good luck to the ryder |
|
With compass and night |
|
Take the off opinion |
|
And scare off the day |
|
And if one thing led to it all |
|
The ones who fell beneath |
|
The casting of the pall |
|
Grab your ladder, |
|
Then you might avoid a fall |
|
So steep |
|
So steep |
|
Then you notice the time |
