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Propeller seeds
Corrida scene
Talk on, walk out.
It took me a minute, my mind was on other things
Hmm.. You got me at “Paris”
I must be coming down with something to be thinking this

What’s happening here?
I’m growing roots through my toes
And leaves from my fingertips

Unfold
Where does this story go?
Queue, food
Drink up
Continue

We float and tend and pass name tags and shaking hands
Immune to the hubbub of others
We’re deep in discussion, the parties on mute.
Our bubble’s got it covered
You want me, well you’ve got me
It doesn’t have to be today
I can’t believe I said that out loud

What’s happening here?
I’m growing roots through my toes
And leaves from my fingertips

I’m falling
What does this story know?
Wedding rings and children
Are all the good ones taken?
Rickshaw, disco
Goodnight kiss
Oh, cold shower

Call me for sweet dreams of him
Where does this story go?
What does this story know?
What does this story hold for us?

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