Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning when you start to raise your head? And does he sing to you incessantly in the space between your bed and wall? Does he walk around all day at school With his feet in your shoes? And looking down every few steps to pretend he walks with you? Oh does he know that place below your neck that is your favourite to be touched? And does he cry through broken sentences like I love you far too much? Does he lay awake listening to your breath Worried you smoke too many cigarettes? Is he coughing now on a bathroom floor? For every spec of tile there's a thousand more You won't ever see But you must hold inside yourself Eternally Well I drug your ghost across the country And we plotted out my death In every city in memories we whispered 'Here is where you rest' I was deteremined in Chicago But I dug my teeth into my knees And I settled for a telephone and sang into your machine You are my sunshine My only sunshine You are my sunshine My only sunshine And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw that her father gave to her She had eyes bright enough to burn me They reminded me of yours And in a story told She was a little girl In a red-rouge, sun-bruised field And there were rows of ripe tomatoes Where a secret was concealed. And it rose like thunder, Clapped under our hands. And it stretched for centuries to a diary entry's end Where I wrote You make me happy When skies are grey You make me happy oh when skies are grey and grey and grey Where the clock's heart it hangs inside it's open chest With it's hands stretched towards the calendar hanging itself But I will not weep For those dying days Where all the ones who've left There's a few that stayed And they found me here And pulled me from the grass Where I was laid. |
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Song: The Calendar Hung Itself Artist: Bright Eyes CD: Fevers and Mirrors |