| The farmhouse was overtaken
|
| By vine and the snake
|
| Hooked on phantom power
|
| The acres seemed to ache
|
| Pursued by floating rebels
|
| They’d take us, if they could
|
| I thought a spell of country living
|
| Would do my spirits good
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| Won’t you lay your hair down low?
|
| Staring out the windowpane
|
| There’s so much more to know
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| All buttoned down in Victoria-black
|
| Let’s watch the white clouds run
|
| With the cool grass on our backs
|
| The door mouse was mistaken
|
| There was no quarter there
|
| The attic and the cellar
|
| Were but jaws of a bear
|
| The hunter was the quarry
|
| All tangled in the wood
|
| I thought a spell of country living
|
| Would do my spirits good
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| Won’t you lay your hair down low?
|
| Staring out the windowpane
|
| There’s so much more to know
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| All buttoned down in Victoria-black
|
| Let’s watch the white clouds run
|
| With the cool grass on our backs
|
| Disembodied gentry
|
| Gathered by my door
|
| Your electrical habits
|
| Aren’t welcome here anymore
|
| That day I left
|
| With a locket and glove
|
| Keepsakes lest I forget
|
| A woman by the name of
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| Won’t you lay your hair down low?
|
| Staring out the windowpane
|
| There’s so much more to know
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| All buttoned down in Victoria-black
|
| Let’s watch the white clouds run
|
| With the cool grass on our backs
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| Trade your lily for a rose
|
| Run to the valley
|
| Where the wild daisy grows
|
| Emily Dickinson
|
| Won’t you lay your hair down low?
|
| Staring out the windowpane
|
| There’s so much more to know |