only the morning of my waking eyes
I don't believe in summer anymore
Only the trace of grass in the air you breathe
I don't believe in trust anymore
only the sound of war drums
that is my heart.
and it's much less steady than it seems.
"And it's Dark in the winter so your ideas start to sleep...
Well your head is spinning like that carousel,
And I know you're a mess after 3 or 4.
But if you make it different then we'll make our way to the surface,
And your favorite place.
Where we sit, and we breathe.
Because I know all the words and I sing you everything.
Well they're just thoughts so go ahead and speak."
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