My Sister Grenadine Those Icicles
Once you were made out of
Those icicles that now are lying
In my cold hands
Blue eyes a blue sky
You keep on running to where
The horizon ends
And once you were made out of
Those eyelashes that I would find
In my jar of milk
Here in the meantime
I go wherever I could
Lose my gravity again
And this when the telephone would ring
And this is with your head over heels
And this is when they broadcast the rain
And this is like a picture of the wind
And this is when and this when oh
Those icicles and eyelashes oh
And this is when oh this when oh
Those icicles and eyelashes oh
