Standing on the edge of the cliff, I start to slip
|
Don't mind if I slide off
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Now I feel my mood starts to lift, I find my grip
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And the screaming fades away below
|
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I grab myself and spin me around, I start to sprint
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I climb down to steadier ground
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If I can bushwhack it on back to the shack behind those hills
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I'll find the world is finally still
|
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Run through pale dark woods to that sugar shack
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Breathe warm steam and hide in that old sugar shack
|
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Boiling heat, maple steam, frozen snow, then it flows
|
When you leave your maple dream wait till spring to go again
|
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A mosaic of lies I tried to arrange in ways that shelter the blame
|
I thought I might have made off clear with all of the loot
|
I plucked and ate all the fruit
|
|
Then I started hearing the yells and shattering plates
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Drowned out by your slithering stares
|
I was followed and chased and caught and tied up
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By the hay right until I made my escape
|
|
Run through pale dark woods to that sugar shack
|
Breathe warm steam and hide in that old sugar shack
|
|
-----------------
|
Sugar Shack
|
| Phish |
