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Flowers from the Man Who Shot Your Cousin
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Postcard from a River
I found a room where I could live The winter's gloom is bound to give way I'm trying to be a painter now I'm trying to rid myself of art somehow
And I'm sleeping through the mornings Through the silence of the mornings I'm glad, I'm glad
You asked the man to play our song I didn't know we had a song to play The ice has covered the river now There's nothing but a broken plough The winter's wrapped itself around The house, the sky is coming down
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Do you remember the skating rink Do you remember how you used to think Are you afraid to tell me now Are you afraid to tell me how How you lost your integrity Your supernatural therapy The weight has finally come around The idleness has brought you down
And you're sleeping through the mornings Through the silence of the mornings I'm glad, I'm glad
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