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the smalls
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Easter
We can hear the furnace rumble,
On the other side of the wall.
As we listen to them moaning,
In their bedroom down the hall.
But, alls we did is sat there,
Crosslegged on the floor.
It's a hopeless situation,
Not discounting what's in store.
Once with my whale bone.
We used to like to park near,
That little bridge just down the road.
A couple of times I thought I'd dreamed him,
And that he'd died out in the snow.
It's a hopeless situation, was all we ever said.
So I s'pose he must've slipped out,
That hole in the back fence.
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Once with my whale bone
It's what we've got to believe,
From what we'd come to perceive,
But you've gone and pulled everything,
From hidden hand up your sleeve.
You told us all you had nothing left
Then you just up and left
And your momma she cried for days.
That narwhal horn still promise our deeper waters.
From Jude to Jonah we'll never get out of the whale,
We can't get out of the way.
Once with my whale bone
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