Son, Ambulance

A Book Laid On Its Binding

Son, Ambulance


Our lives twist like woven threads 
On an endless loom of time 
We will make a quilt that is both lovely 
And warm 

So when you're shivvering dejection 
I am unwilling to laugh 
Vapours rise from my brow 

We'll stare out on the horizon, 
That moment where we end 
The ocean and sky seem colourless 
In times when you forget me 

I will find 
I always have 

My heart belonged to paper 
Like songs were going to save 
But the charactercould not stand 
For me 

The daughter of a mapmaker 
And a sea-worn fisherman 
Tasted the salt 
Of a harbour where they wept 

This book laid on its binding 
My pages toss in the wind 
And dreams race across my ceiling 
Like freethrows through my head 

As I lay down 
I lie back 

I lay down 
I lie back