Brackett, WI

An easy swing had its time shouldered Slow bending axe And now it's a photo framed The swing hasn't had it And here we are rebuilding roads Right by roosting towns It's just like the love The one that's never been enough So I'm counting on your fingers 'Cause you've reattached the twitch And even if you want opinion I would die along the ditches And every summer is a heart talking To the cold, cold take of lust And every autumn singes With the business of sadness Our friend had it wrong I sing "Honey, heaven burns" Another curve in the counting His head is earning more So I'm counting on your fingers 'Cause you've reattached the twitch And even if you want opinion I would die along the ditches