Some Afternoon Or Among Them

My sweaty hands
Fumbles on the lawn
My dreams
Wrapped in tinfoil

Gone, gone, gone
Swift as a glance
As a setting sun
As a snake in the sand
As the fall from a fall
In this fervent land
And we get lost
We get get gone
My love
My love

There's no high of thoughts
Could ever take your place
In this heart of mine
And this holly flame

Of all the troubles
In this world
Mine is my
Thoughts of curls

Save your soul
Save your soul
Save your soul
If you can
Let me be
All by myself
So I don't have to
Listen to you