friday lyrics

In a sweater poorly knit, and an unsuspecting smile, little Moses drifts downstream in the Nile. A fumbling reply, an awkward rigid laugh, and I'm carried helpless by my floating basket raft. You're a flavor in my mind, back and forth between sweeter than any wine and as bitter as mustard greens. And it's light and dark as honeydew and pumpernickel bread; the trap I set for you seems to have caught my leg instead.

Go plow some other field; try and forget my name; we'll see what harvest yields supposing I do the same. I planted rows of peas and by the first week of July they should've came up to my knees but they were maybe ankle high. Take the fingers from your flute; weave your colored yarns; boil down the fruit to preserves in mason jars. And the books are overdue, and the goats are underfed; the trap I set for you seems to have caught my leg instead.

You're a door without a key, a field without a fence. You made a holy fool of me and I've thanked you ever since. But she'd come circling back, and we'll end where we begun, like two pennies on the train tracks, train crushed into one.

But if I'm a crown without a king, if I'm a broken open seed, if I come without a thing, then I come with all I need. No boat out in the blue, no place to rest your head; the trap I set for you seems to have caught my leg instead.

-Me without You