Beating my drum in the fading hour,
biting my tongue, but the blood is sour,
pulling up most of the foxgloves
from the ground, ready to devour.
verse 2
If I had seen any other way,
if it had been any other day,
would I be rowdy and shouting
to be heard from the alleyway?
To be heard from the alleyway
Too long at the head of the table,
too unseen, like light in a dream,
blue mind weary, but able
blue mind weary, but able
verse 3
Everything splayed, getting cut out,
just to be staged for the photograph,
just to be one day sung and played
for the length of a paragraph
For the length of a paragraph
Too long swinging around (words?)
too unseen, like light in a dream,
blue mind weary, but able
blue mind weary, but able
verse 1
Beating my drum in the fading hour,
biting my tongue, but the blood is sour,
pulling up most of the foxgloves
from the ground, ready to devour
From the ground, ready to devour.