Mary Timony The Mirror
Well I used to cry every day but I won't look back, no
way
I run to you and you run away with your songs of death
getting in the way
Shoot us down
under the ground …
And when I look back, look away a crack in the mirror
sheds a tear, we'll sing our songs to the fruitless moon
as I follow a map of my inner room
Shoot us down
under the ground …
tie my leg to a rope throw me over the edge of a boat
and sail away, while the night gently covers us
