Text1.ru Bright Eyes - The Calendar Hung Itself...

Does he kiss your eyelids in the morning
When you start to raise your head?
And does he sing to you incessantly
From the space between your bed and wall?
Does he walk around all day at school
With his feet inside your shoes,
Looking down every few steps
To pretend he walks with you?
Oh, does he know that place below your neck
That is your favorite to be touched,
And does he cry through broken sentences
That I love you far too much?

Does he lay awake
Listening to your breath,
Worried you smoke too many cigarettes?
Is he coughing now, on a bathroom floor?
For every speck of tile
There's a thousand more you won't ever see
But you must hold inside yourself eternally.

Well I drug your ghost across the country
And we plotted out my death
In every city, memories would whisper,
Here is where you rest
I was determined in Chicago
But I dug my teeth into my knees,
And I settled for a telephone
And sang into your machine:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

And I kissed a girl with a broken jaw
That her father gave to her
She had eyes bright enough to burn me.
They reminded me of yours
And In a story told
She was a little girl in a red-rouge, sun-bruised field
And there were rows of ripe tomatoes
Where a secret was concealed

And it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands
And it stretched for centuries to a diary entry's end
Where I wrote,
You make me happy oh, when skies are gray
You make me happy oh, when skies are gray and gray and gray

Well, the clock's heart it hangs inside its open chest
With hands stretched towards the calendar hanging itself
But I will not weep for those dying days
For all the ones who've left there's a few that stayed
And they found me here and pulled me
From the grass where I was laid


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