| Song | Bear's Vision of St. Agnes |
| Artist | mewithoutYou |
| Album | Ten Stories |
| Barren rocks and sand, our wooden sculpture hands, | |
| Held like a timber hitch, held candles to the sun | |
| Both faint and fading fast, we walked on, windward | |
| Kept time with a pocketmouse, mouths kept mostly shut | |
| Thought broke the silence like a bone | |
| FOX: [half-moaning] “you've worn me like an albatross, | |
| I've only slowed you down. | |
| You could've long traded in your braided crown by now | |
| You could've found that Anabaptist girl you always used to go on about | |
| As we rode in circles on our bicycles; | |
| We walked on balance beams | |
| The audience cheered for us | |
| We burned like fevers under carriage hats | |
| Hid behind Venetian masks | |
| In our human costumes | |
| We stood like statues once in shepherd's check | |
| We'll both be decked in herringbone, | |
| Wrapped border drab around already broken ironstone” | |
| BEAR: “But I've seen these cliffs before, | |
| St. Agnes brought her palm branch to the hospital | |
| Looked upward lest the charm had fled | |
| From my brother's breathing bed | |
| And when he died I shut his dogtooth violet eyes: | |
| He looked just like me | |
| Climb on down and see | |
| They laid him on the rocks below | |
| There'll be enough to fill your cup for days; | |
| I'll stay up here and rest. | |
| [aside] We'll fly in straight lines as from carronades | |
| We'll crash like tidal waves, decimate the islands | |
| As our hollowed lumber falls like water, ends where I start | |
| In that tattered rag shop back in Asbury Park | |
| Look how soon my hands won't move | |
| But if you'll improve, we'll all improve | |
| Sixty feet and my feet won't move | |
| But if you'll improve, we'll all improve | |
| Forty feet, my legs won't move | |
| But as you improve, we all improve | |
| Fill our den with acorn mast, | |
| I'll wake before the salmon pass | |
| Ten foot more and nothing moves” |
| Barren rocks and sand, our wooden sculpture hands, | |
| Held like a timber hitch, held candles to the sun | |
| Both faint and fading fast, we walked on, windward | |
| Kept time with a pocketmouse, mouths kept mostly shut | |
| Thought broke the silence like a bone | |
| FOX: halfmoaning " you' ve worn me like an albatross, | |
| I' ve only slowed you down. | |
| You could' ve long traded in your braided crown by now | |
| You could' ve found that Anabaptist girl you always used to go on about | |
| As we rode in circles on our bicycles | |
| We walked on balance beams | |
| The audience cheered for us | |
| We burned like fevers under carriage hats | |
| Hid behind Venetian masks | |
| In our human costumes | |
| We stood like statues once in shepherd' s check | |
| We' ll both be decked in herringbone, | |
| Wrapped border drab around already broken ironstone" | |
| BEAR: " But I' ve seen these cliffs before, | |
| St. Agnes brought her palm branch to the hospital | |
| Looked upward lest the charm had fled | |
| From my brother' s breathing bed | |
| And when he died I shut his dogtooth violet eyes: | |
| He looked just like me | |
| Climb on down and see | |
| They laid him on the rocks below | |
| There' ll be enough to fill your cup for days | |
| I' ll stay up here and rest. | |
| aside We' ll fly in straight lines as from carronades | |
| We' ll crash like tidal waves, decimate the islands | |
| As our hollowed lumber falls like water, ends where I start | |
| In that tattered rag shop back in Asbury Park | |
| Look how soon my hands won' t move | |
| But if you' ll improve, we' ll all improve | |
| Sixty feet and my feet won' t move | |
| But if you' ll improve, we' ll all improve | |
| Forty feet, my legs won' t move | |
| But as you improve, we all improve | |
| Fill our den with acorn mast, | |
| I' ll wake before the salmon pass | |
| Ten foot more and nothing moves" |