come lift your finger over mine you wont be over a long time or in the winter heading south you can't be living in your mouth your mouth i'm not sure what i was sure about about i'm not sure what i was sure about where the silent pillars grow they wont be living in the snow or underwater with their wings they're building cities on the strings, the strings you could only hear the boats crashing, crashing or building tiny cities on the strings, the strings i know that you have a dream waiting at night beneath the flower painted sheets below the cealing, oh beneath slowly it needs to breathe in deep to let it breathe so it can see this world it loves is spinning around it's hard and now spit on her arms(?) but it can't breathe untill this room is dead