Oh the dirty wordless fingers come again. Where the mermaid singers. Oh when I need them. Oh how I need them. . Pretty words doled up on silver platters.
The rose is not afraid to blossom. Though it knows its pedals must fall. And with its pedals fall seeds into soil. Why toil to contain it all?. Why toil at all?.
Hear the whistle blow far off. In the still night without stars. See the tracks laid flat with a hammer's might. They're the spike driver's scars. They're the spike driver's scars.
LAURA VEIRS. Lake Swimming. . Lake swimming. Shucking free our deadened selves. Like snakes and corn do. Our bodies tore off swimming suits. And all the old notions.
Did you see that lady there they stripped her to her underwear. She took it one step further and stripped to bare through the rising flames. And smoke she laughed as all the police choked.
Watch, i can flash across the sky. A lightning bolt from up on high. And i can crash into myself. Now a flower blooms in reverse. And a song takes back a verse.
LAURA VEIRS. Fire Snakes. . Mermaids. Shimmer in the waves. Wanted to share a word. Course they only waved. Left me alone. With the blood in my mouth.
When you sing. When you sing. Stars fill up my eyes. . Galaxies. Pour down my cheeks. Galaxies. . Galaxies. They flood the street. Galaxies. . When we dance.
My wooden vibrating mouth. Sing me your lover's song. Come with me we'll head up north. Where the rivers run icy and strong. . The empty theater is lying cold.
Now the raging of the forest fires end. And all the mammals fled. I smell in the charred darkness. A little green, a little red. . When you sing your song.
I was walking through the snow. When I saw a distant glow. Of a farmhouse nestled down beneath the trees. With a guitar on my back. I thought it sure can't hurt to ask.
Cool water.... . I want to fly like a scroll unfolding. Float to a stone ledge. Wait for a moment 'fore spilling. Words to a hedge. And going away. Like a poem closed in a dresser drawer.
I'm a, I'm a, I'm a, I'm a chimney sweeping man. You see the black lines. On the backs, on the backs of my hands. . I planted all the gardens. I sent off all the hand-typed letters to the empty shells on high.
Breathe life to the street from the mouth. Those ruby red lips have much to give. Pull life from the land with your capable hands. Those life loving beautiful broken hands.
I will not have a child, I will be wild. And not produce meat for your slaughter. No more cannon fodder. . Company whip cracks at the break of dawn. Back break work the whole day long.
I'm falling off the barstool mama in this old ghost town saloon. Where sunlight moves like sadness across the room. Oh my sweet mama if you could only see me.
Bird of prey. Gonna float away. To a feather cloud formation. I'm gonna dig. For pretty and strange. Gonna open me up. A black gold vein. . Arrow on fire.
Goodbye black butterfly. You can take those perfect wings. Into outer space. 'Cos there's no place left in this blood. For your restless fluttering. Your sleepless ways.
Just in the moment. Everything's changed. My dark disposition. Has been rearranged. . And what was I thinking. Out there on the ledge?. Your steady eyes pull me.
Looting the destroyed. Vessels of the sea. I wondered if the waves. Had taken all of me. . All of me back. Down to the black. Down to the where the worms.