Look Alive
I lost my balance in the morning, in the morning
in a white-footed falling rain
I kissed her reflection in the river, in the river
oh the star-covered rose-budded face
I reached in my pocket for a switchblade or a handshake
all I found was a rosary
and the Holy Bible I devoured, I devoured
was of well water,
soil, and change
Now they say to the back of my eyes
"Would you look alive, would you look alive?"
They say to the back of my eyes
"would you look alive?"
One hand on my thigh
and the other hand
twists a thorn in my side
I took for a wife a starving artist, starving artist
with a red-headed genius steed
She was strong, she was private
she would probably survive it
oh I wait patiently
for the saints
to decree
that she faked the whole thing
and there's no pressing need
to succumb to falling freedom
to succumb to falling freedom
the white, white bird
took to the white, white moon
took me to deep, dark gloom,
oh and back up through
the white, white bird
took to the white, white moon
took me to deep, dark gloom,
oh and back up through
and now they say to the back of my eyes
"Would you look alive, would you look alive?"
they say to the back of my eyes "would you look alive?"
and now they say to the back of my eyes
"Would you look alive, would you look alive?"
they say to the back of my eyes "would you look alive?"
One hand on my thigh and the other hand
twists a thorn inside my side,
I don't understand why
Thank your lucky stars for bring you your dear departed
Did you see to it she came through me?
in a white-footed falling rain
I kissed her reflection in the river, in the river
oh the star-covered rose-budded face
I reached in my pocket for a switchblade or a handshake
all I found was a rosary
and the Holy Bible I devoured, I devoured
was of well water,
soil, and change
Now they say to the back of my eyes
"Would you look alive, would you look alive?"
They say to the back of my eyes
"would you look alive?"
One hand on my thigh
and the other hand
twists a thorn in my side
I took for a wife a starving artist, starving artist
with a red-headed genius steed
She was strong, she was private
she would probably survive it
oh I wait patiently
for the saints
to decree
that she faked the whole thing
and there's no pressing need
to succumb to falling freedom
to succumb to falling freedom
the white, white bird
took to the white, white moon
took me to deep, dark gloom,
oh and back up through
the white, white bird
took to the white, white moon
took me to deep, dark gloom,
oh and back up through
and now they say to the back of my eyes
"Would you look alive, would you look alive?"
they say to the back of my eyes "would you look alive?"
and now they say to the back of my eyes
"Would you look alive, would you look alive?"
they say to the back of my eyes "would you look alive?"
One hand on my thigh and the other hand
twists a thorn inside my side,
I don't understand why
Thank your lucky stars for bring you your dear departed
Did you see to it she came through me?
Credits
Writer(s): Grace Rowland
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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