Texty:
Sparklehorse Dreamt For Light Years In The Belly Of A Mountain

that are dying returning to the earth, I can hear them crying The Christmas bulbs that are swallowed, slept in a tree that's gone hollow Never a brittle

get up when I come into the room she don't run through the fields anymore built a fire in the kitchen made her bed by a stove took a walk to the graveyard

creek caught up in the sticks somethings can't be fixed they're playing our song they're playing our song they're playing our song (Thanks to poi for