| [00:20.01] | All the leaves have turned to leather |
| [00:23.09] | I have lost faith in the spring |
| [00:30.75] | Withered like a dark balloon |
| [00:33.47] | Oh I hear no robin sing |
| [00:41.05] | Ushered with the shower still |
| [00:43.57] | Oh the rain falls off the leaves |
| [00:51.09] | And a rim of shady light |
| [00:53.43] | It forms these patterns on my hands |
| [01:00.06] | I can see your ring |
| [01:03.12] | Is it camouflaged or etched |
| [01:07.22] | Tell the king |
| [01:09.22] | To me this errand sent |
| [01:12.20] | To call such a hole |
| [01:14.75] | In the kingdom of the Lord |
| [01:17.68] | That we are afraid |
| [01:21.49] | Where there is no fear |
| [01:34.22] | Oh he fell into a slumber |
| [01:36.82] | And did not wake until the dawn |
| [01:44.61] | To see a band of orange clouds |
| [01:47.35] | Cross the middle of the sky |
| [01:54.82] | Oh he got into a fluster |
| [01:57.65] | He felt a tightening in his leg |
| [02:04.90] | With such finesse he waived a hornet |
| [02:08.23] | From a wine glass |
| [02:14.47] | And tiny fluffs of the feathered life |
| [02:20.64] | And you wander forth with your insolence and wine |
| [02:26.39] | To your fruitless mourn to them that cannot hear |
| [02:32.37] | And what the fuck am I doing here |
| [02:49.02] | In the ghettos of Chicago |
| [02:51.62] | Amid the poverty and despair |
| [02:58.92] | Inside the game hens |
| [03:00.54] | Were the giblets in a plastic bag |
| [03:10.03] | A cocktail which consisted |
| [03:12.09] | Of his gin and her vermouth |
| [03:19.76] | Garnished together with the pearl onions |
| [03:29.33] | Dying eyes gleamed forth their ashy light |
| [03:35.39] | Tiny fluffs of the feathered life |
| [03:41.14] | And you wander forth with your insolence and wine |
| [03:46.82] | To your fruitless mourn to them that cannot hear |
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