| [00:20.01] |
All the leaves have turned to leather |
| [00:23.09] |
I have lost faith in the spring |
| [00:30.75] |
Withered like a dark balloon |
| [00:33.47] |
Oh I hear no robin sing |
| [00:41.05] |
Ushered with the shower still |
| [00:43.57] |
Oh the rain falls off the leaves |
| [00:51.09] |
And a rim of shady light |
| [00:53.43] |
It forms these patterns on my hands |
| [01:00.06] |
I can see your ring |
| [01:03.12] |
Is it camouflaged or etched |
| [01:07.22] |
Tell the king |
| [01:09.22] |
To me this errand sent |
| [01:12.20] |
To call such a hole |
| [01:14.75] |
In the kingdom of the Lord |
| [01:17.68] |
That we are afraid |
| [01:21.49] |
Where there is no fear |
| [01:34.22] |
Oh he fell into a slumber |
| [01:36.82] |
And did not wake until the dawn |
| [01:44.61] |
To see a band of orange clouds |
| [01:47.35] |
Cross the middle of the sky |
| [01:54.82] |
Oh he got into a fluster |
| [01:57.65] |
He felt a tightening in his leg |
| [02:04.90] |
With such finesse he waived a hornet |
| [02:08.23] |
From a wine glass |
| [02:14.47] |
And tiny fluffs of the feathered life |
| [02:20.64] |
And you wander forth with your insolence and wine |
| [02:26.39] |
To your fruitless mourn to them that cannot hear |
| [02:32.37] |
And what the fuck am I doing here |
| [02:49.02] |
In the ghettos of Chicago |
| [02:51.62] |
Amid the poverty and despair |
| [02:58.92] |
Inside the game hens |
| [03:00.54] |
Were the giblets in a plastic bag |
| [03:10.03] |
A cocktail which consisted |
| [03:12.09] |
Of his gin and her vermouth |
| [03:19.76] |
Garnished together with the pearl onions |
| [03:29.33] |
Dying eyes gleamed forth their ashy light |
| [03:35.39] |
Tiny fluffs of the feathered life |
| [03:41.14] |
And you wander forth with your insolence and wine |
| [03:46.82] |
To your fruitless mourn to them that cannot hear |
