Pines Dead Feathers
Ah, dead feathers, tied to a dreamcatcher
That hangs down from a midwest moon
As smoke rolls, out of the windows
Of my heart into the sky
Where falling stars disappear
It's an old, lonely city
We brush our teeth to the sound of sirens
An illusion of safety
A harpsichord on a gravel road
My heart's on fire but my hands are cold
We tremble in the bow echo
So much beauty and kindness
In the world it makes me cry
I beg of you, your Highness
Please show mercy on the tender ones
In the low and lonesome glow
We tremble in the bow echo
We lay awake in the dark so gold
We worry all the night
We hurry away the days
Through the frugalness
We go…
We tremble in the bow echo
We lay awake in the dark so gold
