MewithoutYou - Timothy Hay lyrics
[MewithoutYou - Timothy Hay lyrics]
On a cold December, just before dawn
As the sun said "Hello" to the sky
The mantis prayed while the lamellicorn
Tumbled and rolled in a threadbare tie
The Holland Lops in the Karakung glades
Indignantly thumped their feet
And hopped away when they cut their noses
On the sharp-tipped blades
(since the grass doesn't mind in the least)
There's a heat pad waitin'
In the chicken-wire hutch
Where the does from the Netherlands stay
But that dry alfalfa don't taste like much
And we're tired of the Timothy hay (hey)
I touched her back, she was lying face down
The dew turned to frost in her eyes
Me and Sister Margaret on the Pentagon lawn
With our wrists in a plastic tie
While the rats by the tracks
On these winter days
Seeking shelter from the cold
Make a nest in the traps of our various ways
That they can save their immortal souls
No, Timothy hay oh, no, Timothy hay
Oh, no, Timothy hay oh, no, Timothy hay
Oh, no, Timothy hay oh, no, Timothy hay
Please no more Timothy hay
No more Timothy hay
Oh, no, no more Timothy hay
No, no more Timothy hay
Oh, no, no more Timothy hay
No more Timothy hay
On a cold December, just after dusk
As the sun bid it's cordial goodbyes
We get split to pieces like
An apple seed husk
To reveal the tree that's been hidden inside
We're a sapling caught in a tattered sirah
As the seams from the shepherd's purse-belt
Broke the news to Mom: we found a better Mom
We call "God" (which she took quite well)
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God you must be!
As the sun said "Hello" to the sky
The mantis prayed while the lamellicorn
Tumbled and rolled in a threadbare tie
The Holland Lops in the Karakung glades
Indignantly thumped their feet
And hopped away when they cut their noses
On the sharp-tipped blades
(since the grass doesn't mind in the least)
There's a heat pad waitin'
In the chicken-wire hutch
Where the does from the Netherlands stay
But that dry alfalfa don't taste like much
And we're tired of the Timothy hay (hey)
I touched her back, she was lying face down
The dew turned to frost in her eyes
Me and Sister Margaret on the Pentagon lawn
With our wrists in a plastic tie
While the rats by the tracks
On these winter days
Seeking shelter from the cold
Make a nest in the traps of our various ways
That they can save their immortal souls
No, Timothy hay oh, no, Timothy hay
Oh, no, Timothy hay oh, no, Timothy hay
Oh, no, Timothy hay oh, no, Timothy hay
Please no more Timothy hay
No more Timothy hay
Oh, no, no more Timothy hay
No, no more Timothy hay
Oh, no, no more Timothy hay
No more Timothy hay
On a cold December, just after dusk
As the sun bid it's cordial goodbyes
We get split to pieces like
An apple seed husk
To reveal the tree that's been hidden inside
We're a sapling caught in a tattered sirah
As the seams from the shepherd's purse-belt
Broke the news to Mom: we found a better Mom
We call "God" (which she took quite well)
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God there must be!
What a beautiful God, what a beautiful God
What a beautiful God you must be!