| Oh, how could it be
|
| That tendons bound to bones within my feet
|
| Were bound to believe
|
| That they should move themselves to up and leave?
|
| I should say that I’m sorry on their behalf
|
| I should say something funny
|
| But you will not laugh
|
| Oh, I didn’t see
|
| The steps I took had taken you from me
|
| Where would we be
|
| If I let myself be swept away to sea?
|
| I would cry out to tell you
|
| But you’d not be there
|
| I would cry out to tell you
|
| But you wouldn’t care
|
| I could lead a stationary life and you will see
|
| You’ll believe my love is carried to you by my feet
|
| My bones are wrong, sometimes
|
| Sometimes, bones are wrong
|
| I know I’m not leaving
|
| I know, I believe it
|
| Oh, how could it be
|
| Those teeny little things within your knees
|
| Bring you to me?
|
| And they can keep on moving when you sleep
|
| I know I’m not leaving you all alone
|
| I know, I believe it and so do my bones
|
| And so do my bones
|
| And so do my bones
|
| I could lead a stationary life and you will see
|
| You’ll believe my love is carried to you by my feet
|
| My bones are wrong, sometimes
|
| Sometimes, bones are wrong |