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• Artiste: Boy Bathing (The)
• Titre: The Leaves
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Mary, your leaves are all cold But why do they take on such youth when you're old Once you were made up with Christmas lights and bells But you were hollow on the inside and no one could tell What good is your life if you're stuck in your roots Can't feel any sun 'cause you're under a roof Let go of the leaves Mary and fingers are all bone There will be photographs to remember your place on the lawn You collect the leaves to scatter on your farm And grow cautious fruit on nervous apple trees Shaking from their roots doesn't keep them warm Frost comes before the freeze There is no place in the dirt for a sailor like me Who sees trees chained not rooted to the earth So I pack my bags and wander to the docks To pull out the hermit crabs and collect the bottle tops Where the water is clean I will see your face again I won't have to bail I've got a new white sail When I drift to the ocean floor They could say I fell into a spiral shell And you can say I want another Camelot In the clean white cloth of a restaurant And then the telephone sounds like a microphone A head of stone The blades of grass all around it grew Green where the dirt moved Not a place to rest I am cutting down on the grass And fighting with the emptiness Buried to fertilize the trees I don't to see you stabbing on the lawn tonight With a garbage can of leaves and a flashlight