| Oh, we open all our windows
|
| To let the light crawl in
|
| Reverberating morning noise of dogs and car horns singing
|
| And when it’s time for rising, the daylight is softly peeking over
|
| The trees in the park outside and it is opening, opening
|
| To a full glass of water filled in some seconds gone past
|
| While I’m grasping for the cup in the moment, it’s bleeding away
|
| Oh, a new yet returning feeling
|
| As a dream fades out
|
| And I’m picking up the pieces of it by singing it aloud
|
| And soil is the song bleeding from everything around me
|
| And the light in the trees outside
|
| Well, it is opening, opening
|
| To a new day revealing just how completely fucked we are
|
| Yet, I’ve planted my seed and blanketed, blanketed, blanketed them
|
| I’ve started praying for germination
|
| I’ve started praying for germination
|
| I’ve started praying for germination
|
| I’ve started praying, I’m praying
|
| Oh, a dog in the captain’s belly
|
| Will bark 'til we open him up
|
| And we’re pulling out a scalpel to incise him
|
| And rummage through guts, deceit and everything you’d need to be that hungry
|
| He is flailing like a fish on the line
|
| And he is opening, opening
|
| To a new day revealing soil is the song bleeding from everything |