Old skin and broken teeth, I'm hardly the same snake
Old skin and broken teeth, I'm hardly the same snake
My death mobile has bust its wheel, laughing in its place
Warm, yellow memory foam, rising in my sleep
Bits of you were poking through when I saw me
I'm tying my knot, I'm cutting my hole
Hold on to your ma'
Her leaves are turning brown
She's keeping bees at 73
She's dancing in her gown
That's the drift and swing
That's the drift and swing
We're drifting through our golden years
Humming kerosene
I'm tying my knot, I'm cutting my hole
I'm hesitant to plant seeds
I'm no good egg, you're no barrel of laughs
All that we could have are bad apples
