You're a strange one
make a truth from an uncarved block
and you want to be seen
and when you're seen, what are you?
And when you and I see, what do you look like?
And when there's a wind storm where do you fly?
Do you believe that there is a finite amount of mad relation?
Our love is made of puppets and tarot cards
our love is made by crank machines and ukulele strings
our love is made by punk and a square dance
and our love is made by hearts sew in my pants
I love this and shall harbour it from mysteries
how often have you lain beneath me
on a strange roof thinking of home?
How often have you lain beneath me
on a strange roof thinking of home?