Towing the line
I watched the host drink all the wine
And now she rambles through the new of minds
The old man is a painter of tired seascapes
Tired of adventure
So my mind wanders
Picking at the table to cure the wrong
Like a bird in a world with no trees
You were hung up there in your disbelief
I know I'm a hard rock to drag around
Love is in the early mornings
In the shadows under the trees
Not in like the colded ashes
Floating down from the rook array
Down here I crow for you
You crow for me
Down here I crow for you
You crow for me
Towing the line
I watched the host drink all the wine
And now I’m purring For a drop of anything
Throwing stones at your window
You telling me as if it’s simple
Why can’t you be like the blackbird and sing
I said I'm the westerlies in Ireland
So decadent and violent
Can’t you see I'm a forager
Crawling at the bedrock
Love is in the early mornings
In the shadows under the trees
Not in like the colded ashes
Floating down from the rook array
Down here I crow for you
You crow for me
Down here I crow for you
You crow for me