| I came down over
|
| The sleepy mountains where
|
| Our wide toes plunged into
|
| The weeping shale to tear our
|
| Skin up off from the bottom
|
| Leaves our ankles bare
|
| Don’t just wander back and forth
|
| And leave it
|
| Build it into pinnacles and shrines of some
|
| Some ghastly predicament of mine you’ll find
|
| Leaves us plastered to a bed of hairs with
|
| Me all coiled up near the bottom with my chest un-bared
|
| Oh but dear the sky is low
|
| Gather up its harm and gods with grateful arms
|
| Oh but dear the sky is low
|
| Gather up its harm and gods with grateful arms
|
| Oh but dear the sky is low watch
|
| Fluent sea men rig their rudders so they’ll
|
| Graze it with their wind arrows
|
| 'Tis in the fathoms that-that they brush below-low
|
| Oh my dreams come back to me
|
| Back to me, back to
|
| Oh my wrinkles build on me
|
| Build on me, build on
|
| Oh but dear the sky is low
|
| Gather up its harm and gods with grateful arms
|
| Oh but dear the sky is low
|
| Gather up its harm and gods with grateful arms |