Honey pick me up.
Honey break me down.
I'll go, I'll go.
But when you draw your ground,
and when you wear your crown,
I'll know. Well I'll know.
And I won't stay for the show.
Come on spit the ground.
Wheelchair signs, and wind chimes.
It looks like mom, let's be wrong together.
Summer picks up spring.
Your voice cuts the string I'm on.
But when you limp about.
Just like a deer who's lost its mouth.
Lost its mouth. He's lost his voice in the crowd.
But I'll, but I'll, I'll keep you around.