|
Last hand |
|
I shook, was a boat that floated on its back all day |
|
In the middle of a song about trees that are scared of the dark |
|
Wait until you're gone to steal some thoughts from offa the shelf |
|
To trade for hats with holes that let the night shine through |
|
Exchange our fears for little glass holes |
|
And broken dreams of bent-backed trolls |
|
Who'll tend the trees and what's in between |
|
The sky above is aglow with evil love |
|
The boat sank offshore in a birdbath dreamt by a broken wheel |
|
Left by the side of the road right where night slipped and fell |
|
And if I ever had, they couldn't tell, if we were, they didn't know |
|
She might, but if he did, they can't, you must, |
|
I won'tTurn our tears to little black holes |
|
To light the way for three blind moles |
|
Who'll tend the trees and what's in between |
|
The sky above is aglow with evil love |
