Dear lie still along my old web Cursed by your dust filled head Dear lie still along my old web Cursed by your dust filled head
Water spills down o'er the glass left always full There's a dew under the bed Where sweat and dreams hath tread Your feet would touch the floor And drift around like boards Hang you like a lullabye
Hang you like a lullabye Hang you like a lullabye Little voices left to rot and plot The clenching of your teeth might help you sleep It will not lift you You always wished you'd walk Through and o'er the salt But it hangs you like a lullabye
