Besedila: Bright Eyes. Bowl Of Oranges.

:
The rain it started tapping on the window near my bed
There was a loophole in my dreaming so I got out of it
And to my surprise my eyes were wide and already open
Just my night stand and my dresser
Where those nightmares had just been
So I dressed myself and left then out into the gray streets
But everything seemed different and completely new to me
The sky, the trees, houses, buildings, even my own body
And each person I encountered I couldn't wait to meet

Then I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health
I said there is nothing that I can do for you
That you can't do for yourself
He said oh yes you can, just hold my hand
I think that that would help
So I sat with him awhile then I asked him how he felt

He said I think I'm cured
No in fact I'm sure of it
Thank you stranger, for your therapeutic smile

So that's how I learned the lesson that everyone's alone
And your eyes must do some raining if you're ever gonna grow
But when crying don't help, you can't compose yourself
It's best to compose a poem
An honest verse of longing or a simple song of hope

That's why I'm singing baby don't worry, cause now I got you back
And every time you feel like crying you know I'll try and make you laugh
But if I can't, if it just hurts too bad, then we'll wait for it to pass
And I will keep you company through those days so long and black

And we'll keep working on the problem we know we'll never solve
Of love's uneven remainders, our lives are fractions of a whole
But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall
Then I think we'd see the beauty there and stand staring in awe

At our still lives posed
Like a bowl of oranges
Like a story told by the fault lines and the soil