Lyrics On The Swing - The For Carnation

On The Swing

We fall through the trees
Arriving in the kitchen
Too late for the stew
We fall through the trees
Arriving in the kitchen
Too late for the stew
Plucked clean
Feathers beside
Hands joined at the table
I tuck them away
Recline for the evening
With papers so thin
Offering explanations
I know they’re not true
Take hold cause I’m near the loose one
When the wind blows
Our time has come