test me honey against these windswept (plains)
i'll tell you not one of these trees give (fruits)
not one of these clouds has not cried to (live)
all these clocks you hear instead of (bees)
enter the mouth of never and (slide away)
beat the electric sunshine to its (death)
and watch the warmest day take your flowers
shallow hands are holding plenty
the fat drops beneath the covers
where it dries and becomes gold
with your whistle, they will come and dig it
hate to give away the ending, dear
all the living will swiftly turn to
dust (x4)
VERSO 2: (igual ao verso 1)