| Heart, heart in your mouth, hand on the paper
|
| With the new work that you’ve found
|
| The gift of your depression weighs you down, down, down
|
| And when you wake for the sixth straight day with the tanqueray
|
| You will rise, rise again, and drink again
|
| Hurtle hurtle into the breach
|
| Let your body fall out of reach
|
| On the day that you find your 30s have left you childless
|
| Remember when you meet your coupled friends with unease
|
| The world will forget any good they have done
|
| And the world’ll forget any good you have done
|
| Hurtle hurtle into the breach
|
| Let your body fall out of reach
|
| Out of thought, out of house, out of your mind
|
| Lay your head, lay your heart next to mine
|
| And try to admit that you might have it wrong
|
| Try to admit that you might have it wrong
|
| Thunderhead, oh thunderhead
|
| I will be your riverbed |