Notes On Air

The interview where you spoke

To the bleach in the stone

You should have brought some tea

Outside where the light

Coats us in marzipan

In pools of breast milk

I had to bury my daughter today

And I can't think about it too much

You see a buck from the sky

Trample a wandering doe

You see a buck from the sky

Trample a wandering doe, yeah

Yeah, I am down to the beach

Smoke condensed from telling stories

Strolling through the neighborhood

Clanking steel and discolored

Because you made a truce of rubber

Because you made a truce of rubber

Because you made a truce of rubber

Because you made a truce

You see a buck from the sky

Trample a wandering doe

You see a buck from the sky

Trample a wandering doe, yeah

Abiding in the unborn is symmetry

And that one is always the refugee

Abiding in the unborn is symmetry

And that one is always the refugee

You see a buck from the sky

Trample a wandering doe

You see a buck from the sky

Trample a wandering doe, yeah