Forty-seven strings are pulled
|
By this angelic "beating" girl
|
And it breaks our hearts to hear
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The music that comes out of her.
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Shoulders hang on folded chairs
|
This will be our church tonight
|
We have dug out foxholes here
|
Not an atheist in sight.
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Laughing shaking taking oaths
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Breaking sacramental cups
|
We pour the magic in our coats
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Thinking it can leave with us.
|
|
But itĄŻs the wrong way out
|
20 steps but itĄŻs so harming
|
When they talk out loud
|
Bend to brace your fingers on me
|
|
IĄŻve been breathing evil air
|
Sharing needles with the sky
|
Looking up remembering
|
Regina said they're just old light.
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But you somehow understood
|
My oversaturated skin
|
You held your hand up to my neck
|
And played me like a theremin
|
I see London I see France
|
And all the things that we wonĄŻt do
|
And if I never leave this chair
|
Maybe I can go with you.
|
|
But itĄŻs a long way out
|
20 steps but it's so harming
|
When they talk out loud
|
Bend to brace your fingers on me
|
ItĄŻs a long way out
|
Past the bar and past the awning
|
Past the easy crowd
|
Back into the end
|
|
We have found our solace here
|
In this unexpected place
|
Like a startled, dying man
|
Kneels in prayer just in case
|
And while the night sky sadly lit
|
All that you were sleeping through
|
Death took my friend Benjamin
|
But he left his keys with you
|
So IĄŻll kiss the air instead
|
As not to disturb your sleep
|
And if you never wake my love
|
Maybe you can come with me
|
|
But itĄŻs a long way out
|
Twenty steps but its so harming
|
When they talk out loud
|
Bend to brace your fingers on me
|
It's a long way out
|
Past the bar and past the awning
|
Past the easy crowd
|
Back into the end of harmony
|
Back into the end of harmony
|
Back into the end of harmony
|
Back into the end
|
|
-----------------
|
The Living Room
|
| Amanda Palmer |
