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Envelope of Sincerity

de Recording Nature

While he sits and stares
At girls he can't explain
Oh, here she comes
On ten white horses
Made of string and clay
The flowers in his fingers
Wilt away

His wise old lover said
That lies do not deceive
So when she sleeps
I'll leave her bed and
Hurry home instead
My soul is on a string
Tied to her chair

And why is it I pray
To Gods that always fail
To drag that girl back
Through my window
And undress my face
And smile at me
While I put on my chains
Ah Ah Aahhh

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