As of above the twilight reel flicks past oneself
To get to the books lined with dust upon our shelves
Backwards so forwards noddin Her head again
Stay sane my sister for it is just a jig in the game

Name the fame that brought you back to your home
Flipping page of book scraps relating oneself a map
Drink spilt apostrophe's with lined' red jewels
What a worry we thought we were what fools

Though the goods now are bending themselves forever
And underneath the spotted white sky
You at times still decide to stilly lie
In a bed that was made for you and I only

Brick upon stony leaking grey brick
Pushed us fast further and longer until upset sick
Foes till the bitter baited end
No letter will come, no, no letter will be sent