Joanna Newsom Lyrics

We picked our way
down to the beach,
watching the waves
dragging out of our reach:
tangling tails, like a sodden sheet;
dangling entrails
from the gut of the sea.

Hoarding our meals (alfalfa and rolls);
trying not to catch
the cold eyes of the gulls —
I hope Mother Nature has not
overheard!
(Though, she doles out hurt
like a puking bird.)

We stayed for the winter.
No-one told us
about the laws of the land.
I hold my own.
But you, with your hunger —
you, on the other hand —
make yourself known.

And when we were found,
I know we both grieved.
My heart made the sound of
snow falling from eaves.
You and me, Bess,
we were as thick as thieves.
So I swore, nonetheless, up and down,
it was only me.
They took me away,
and, after some time
studying my case,
must have made up their minds.
By the time you realized I was dying,
it must have been too late.
I believe you were not lying.

It is the day.
I wake,
with my ears cocked up like a gun
(like every day, of course),
yanked by my wrists
to the sugar-front courtyard —
now tell me, what have I done?
It seems I have stolen a horse.
I step to the gallows.

Who do you think you are —
arching your hooves like a crane,
in the shallow gutter
that lines the boulevards,
crowded with folks
who just stare as I hang?
It's all the same.
Kindness comes over me;
what was your name?
It makes no difference.
I'm glad that you came.
Forever, I'll listen to your glad neighing.

We picked our way
down to the beach,
watching the waves
dragging out of our reach:
tangling tails, like a sodden sheet;
dangling entrails
from the gut of the sea.

Hoarding our meals (alfalfa and rolls);
trying not to catch
the cold eye of the gulls —
I hope Mother Nature has not
overheard!
(Though, she doles out hurt
like a puking bird.)

We stayed for the winter.
No-one told us
about the laws of the land.
I hold my own.
But you, with your hunger —
you, on the other hand —
make yourself known.

And when we were found,
I know we both grieved.
My heart made the sound of
snow falling from eaves.
You and me, Bess,
we was as thick as thieves.
So I swore, nonetheless, up and down,
it was only me.
So they took me away,
and, after some time
studying my case,
must have made up their minds.
By the time you realized I was dying,
must have been too late.
I believe you were not lying.

It is the day.
I wake,
with my ears cocked up like a gun
(like every day, of course),
yanked by my wrists
to the sugar-front courtyard —
now tell me, what have I done?
seems I have stolen a horse.
and I step to the gallows.

Who do you think that you are —
arching your hooves like a crane,
in the shallow gutter
that lines the boulevards,
crowded with folks
who just stare as I hang?
It's all the same.
Kindness comes over me;
what was your name?
It makes no difference.
I'm glad that you came.
Forever, I'll listen to your glad neighing.