Could we try try bicycles coming from the sky?
My angel's head is drooping tuck my arms into my sides
I listened for you now higher still break through the
atmostphere and my voice is the sea hands are the heavens
and my voice is the sea

Turn you into a bobsled
I'm a popsicle stick
Drags you 'cross the desert wagon
Cut out from a tree

Soon soon all we'll do is blow blow around into the
sound sound of my cloting on the chair lift me up into
the air is something traceable I traced it with my
finger on the kindergarten notepad with a voice from the sea

Turn you into a bobsled I'm a popsicle stick drga you
'cross the desert wagon cut out from a tree.
Meet you under the car tonight we'll make ourselves
round round and round we'll go just like the earth
and the wheels wheels of the clock keep ticking time
time is a circle tim is a wheel everything comes back
again just keeps happening never ends and if it ends
it just starts againa nd again bury me under the sand
pull my feet 'til they come off put them in the sky
we tried to tell you here we are the pavement turns
us into traffic signals maps of the world fold us up
and put us in the glove compartment love department
I miss the time when this made sense I miss the time
when we were traveling traveling to Africa together
in the fall the fall of man was in the springtime and
I miss the time when you and I were hiking in the mountains
and we took ourselves to try everyone tries it's my
I turn to the sea and the sky I turn to the ocean the sea see

Cut out from a tree