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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
All trees are oaks, All birds are blue. In the mountains of a magnet, Are the mountains of you I'm proud of my genius, just like a painter And dumb like a poet I think I can just say it from the throats of our wrists, With full sets of teeth, Vanilla almond teeth. From vanilla almond tea spent afternoons measuring time in spoons A southern run for a late longing to drink. What's 80 miles in Canada or 18 years in the mountains? Where all trees are oaks and all birds are blue, ach' du I thought everyone was you. Where forget-me-nots and marigolds and other things That don't get old Don't get old between one june and september You're all I remember But I'm a lantern, my head a moon. I married a room where I'll at least keep my hands in order, And what about the air, lying awake. |