verse 1 Beating my drum in the fading hour, biting my tongue, but the blood is sour, pulling up most of the foxgloves from the ground, ready to devour. verse 2 If I had seen any other way, if it had been any other day, would I be rowdy and shouting to be heard from the alleyway? To be heard from the alleyway Too long at the head of the table, too unseen, like light in a dream, blue mind weary, but able blue mind weary, but able verse 3 Everything splayed, getting cut out, just to be staged for the photograph, just to be one day sung and played for the length of a paragraph For the length of a paragraph Too long swinging around (words?) too unseen, like light in a dream, blue mind weary, but able blue mind weary, but able verse 1 Beating my drum in the fading hour, biting my tongue, but the blood is sour, pulling up most of the foxgloves from the ground, ready to devour From the ground, ready to devour.