Rhododendron hold your hand your world has reached the end One thing has confused the ground and every sleeping bulb is waking now
Are you among these dying mounds all rotten and alone? All my recent memories have stopped coming around
The trick of the trade, a season god has made A totem to the heavens, a weathered machine An impostor is upon us, another bony day And all my simple feelings are melting away
The trick of the trade, a season god has made A totem to the heavens, a weathered machine An impostor is upon us, another gorgeous day And all my simple feelings are melting away
