We went up the mountain Last Friday night All of the animals Were out in plain sight They didn't bid us to follow them They didn't hiss us away No, to us, my love They had nothing to say
And while you saw the tremor And you saw the wings You saw the glistening white teeth I was busy with things in my mind Things that I tend to As though to survive
I'm not proud I was asking you Do you dim yourself down? Do you say terrible things about me When I'm not around? You sweep a hand through the clearing Say can't you see? There ain't anything threatening you here Least of all me
Put your life on the easel There, right next to mine We ain't living like weasels We don't have the time, never will All of the creatures made for the dark woods Whooping, that's what I heard What if the easel fell over And the paintings were burned to a crisp?
Nights like these I can't quite tell A fear from a wishTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
