You can never cut your hair.
And when you comb it, you must save
all the fallen strands.
When you die they will be buried with you in a sack.
You will need them
to weave a rope to climb to heaven.
To climb to heaven.
I recall the things you said Jack-
coming down the hill like brats.
A vessel half full, your cup half empty.
Listen here, my Jill you know that-
You can never cut your hair.
And when you comb it, you must save
all the fallen strands.
When you die they will be buried with you in a sack.
You will need them
to weave a road to climb to see if there is any such thing as heaven. heaven.
When I first met you, you were
so kind to me.
Now I dont understand why your
running around
running around
running around
with that axe in your hands.
