|
This cabin may have been built with Grandpa's bones, the way it creaks |
|
In the dark of Denmark night, compass in tow |
|
The breezes off the lake are a breath of fresh air |
|
From the prettiest name soiled by both sinners and saints |
|
So I'm taking the first mountain, covered in twilight |
|
I happen to find, and if I'm never to return |
|
Note that I want all this nonsense burned |
|
Myths put wind in sails and warmth in hands |
|
The dress you'll wear, the way you'll kiss me when I'm home |
|
Should beat the devil out of such a man |
|
I've got a fight for frostbite |
|
It's in the flask your father knows I stole |
|
Where your mother kept her courage for times as troubling as these |
|
For boys as lost as me |
|
I'm making angels out, and eager that they will make out me |
|
Drag my legend out like an apology |
|
Ignore tradition from Caesar on down |
|
Don't wait for me, don't turn your ring around |
|
I'd rather lie here than surely drown |
|
In a tide as white as your wedding gown |
|
The trees have the crows, the seas, undertows |
|
And you've got the view out of your window |
