on a may day with a crimson bouquet
how you walk with a crooked mouth
past the blue birds come to scream in the rain
with your cousins from the mystic south
you got triplets and architects swaying from your heart
and a wooden horses laugh
pantomime sticky valentine you're so sick of it all
and the rent just rose
wash it all out to sea
wash it all out to sea
on a good day i'll be wearing your smile
i'll be pushing my weight around
i'll be laughing with all your friends
i'll be telling them again how it didn't work out
there'll be truces there'll be trials
there'll be cries from a room and your mothers real distress
when she looks at you and sees the truth
you know nothing of her pain and it all turns out the same