When I was a child, I lived in a house made out of wind.
All of the eyes came out at night, but I slept throughout.
Just another time to ignore.
Just another way to build an island.
Just another time to ignore
all those axes and arrows, axes and arrows.
Isn't it strange how we bend these wounds?
Lonely and waiting for a home to be built.
I I I
gather 'round, gather 'round.
all rights reserved