| I sleep on my back cause it’s good for the spine
|
| And coffin rehearsal
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| I know a psychic who reads her own palms
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| And her findings are personal
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| She keeps her fists shut tight
|
| And she sleeps on her side
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| Well, maybe she knows something I don’t know
|
| But I am still alive, in love and wide-eyed in my time
|
| Not a mummy shrinking in its cloths
|
| Your cat clawed out my eyes while I’s distracted by your smile
|
| And now my sockets sit like empty catcher’s mitts waiting
|
| And you ask me is there anybody else that I’m dating
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| Anna & Nathan
|
| Anna & Nathan
|
| Anna & Nathan
|
| I’m patient
|
| But your painted pony is fading
|
| Lost like a snakeskin in high grass
|
| And out there thrashing like a pet bird caught in a jet stream, that’s me
|
| Your count them blessings because your net worth oughta be less cream in your
|
| best dreams
|
| But God put a song on my palm that you can’t read
|
| I’m lucky to be under
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| The same sky that held
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| The exhale from your first breath
|
| Like a ring on a pillow of clouds
|
| By you my tongue may stutter
|
| But my gift heart screams clear and swells
|
| To burst between the wrapped lengths
|
| Of its bowed ribbon cell
|
| But I am still alive, in love and wide-eyed in my time
|
| Not a mummy shrinking in its cloths
|
| There’s a moth flock in my gut growin'
|
| I tug at my groin like tides trying
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| To pull moon towards them
|
| I can’t ignore them
|
| And when we say your name our tongues catch flame
|
| And you wonder why we ain’t got nothin' to say
|
| Anna & Nathan
|
| Anna & Nathan
|
| Anna & Nathan
|
| I’m patient
|
| But your painted pony is fading
|
| Lost like a snakeskin in high grass
|
| And out there thrashing like a pet bird caught in a jet stream, that’s me
|
| Your count them blessings because your net worth oughta be less cream in your
|
| best dreams
|
| But God put a song on my palm that you can’t read
|
| I’ll be embalmed with it long before you’ll see |