Tend to the head, weeds in the pavement
They think you're dead, but you're not alive yet
Restless like a child tied down to the backseat
Swimming laps of train track in your sleep
The moon so white it cleans the sky
The crooked hands collide
Eight in the bed, rise in the a.m.
They think you're spent, but you haven't tried yet
Hospice for a while, curled up on the loveseat
Sitting laps a cat, round its feet
The moon so white it cleans the sky
The crooked hands collide
Your head so light it clears your mind
The stained glass stars align
Artist: Bizzy Bone
Artist: Guided By Voices
Artist: Cramps