Little Sur
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Barbarosa

Little Sur


Well she held your hand to the water's edge
But she'll pull the feathers from your mother's hand
But she'll run you around like murderous red thread
But she'll hold the bottle to the very end
Yeah, she'll drink the bottle down to the end

Well, I've got a couple pictures on my wall
They're small and they're broken, they're rubble from the fall
But they're buildings and bridges, puzzles 12 feet tall
With the seamstress with needles
Thick of enough to mend it all
Ohhhhh, ohhhhh
Well I don't need your needles or pins, no not at all
Ohhhhhh, ohhhhh

Take your heart, take the tide, wrap it up inside your pillow
Breathe out of tune, take it in hear the gospel of the swallow
The swallow, I'll swallow the words
That escape eat them up milky
Pieces soft and hollow
So hollow, so hollow out a cave just for me
And my silhouetted, bookended sorrow
My sorrow I'm sorry my body is craving
The hand of the ocean wide
My body is craving the touch of the tide
My body is craving, it's craving, it's craving mine
My body is craving, it's craving, it's craving mine

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