| My anger is a storm with no rain
|
| Thoughts take you away again
|
| And when you leave me
|
| Where do you go?
|
| Already I’ve forgotten that you wait for me
|
| At the end of my thoughts I twist
|
| And turn myself a knot
|
| You remain in this my age of reason
|
| You love me truly truly
|
| If I withhold nothing it is my bleary eyed duty
|
| I speak to my own
|
| Wooden knees ‘neath the table
|
| I have the love of family
|
| Bright as judgement in my wake
|
| Hands down the grain of wood
|
| Wrought iron eighteen cedar
|
| It is a comfort for me to know
|
| You will it that I need her
|
| She remains in this my age of reason
|
| She loves me truly truly
|
| If I withhold nothing it is my bleary eyed duty
|
| Your tears fall at the top of my hat
|
| Trouble and suffering yeah yeah yeah all of that
|
| I’m wearing down your Sunday shoes
|
| Out of my head it is you I choose
|
| Lovely feathers I can’t refuse
|
| It’s like the moon just walked in the room
|
| Hey sober in spirit yeah sober in mind
|
| A holy fuzz comes through the line
|
| In his time
|
| You remain in this my age of reason
|
| You love me truly truly
|
| If I withhold nothing it is my bleary eyed duty |