who lives in a pinecone tangled in steel? who talks to a pinecone alone? love letters and cell phones filled up with dead codes to old homes obsessions and lovers who write i've got a message for you shell trunk and poor disguise i've got a message to no one steel trunk shoots for the sky
don't wait to hear from me brace your face for the fist of spring i got a feeling that can never be i got a feeling it can never be
who lives on the nightstand where you close your eyes? there's no dialtone to linger on i've got a message for you shell trunk and poor disguise i've got a message to no one steel trunk shoots for the sky
don't wait to hear from me brace your face for the fist of spring i got a feeling that can never be i got a feeling it can never be the way you thought it would be
the words rumble under the thunder of the year's first storm the words rumble under the thunder the words rumble under the thunder of the year's first storm the words rumble under the thunder
don't wait to hear from me brace your face for the fist of spring every blade of grass is a knife breaking through earth on its way to the sky
in the atmosphere, words that missed their target ear all colliding into flames past the timberline, some urgent words of mine are being mangled by their monopine way past the highest cloud words are slipping in and out we're running out of time to capture your attention i want to hear you breathe to know just what you need come and connect me to you i want to hear you breathe come and connect me to you come and connect me to you