Lock me up in that little wooden house
So that my soul can sink into the floorboards
And watch over you when I’m not there
Find me between matrreses and mahogany
Sparking lights fall and the hollow of the guitar sound
A resounding hum
Like my head on your chest where gravity pulls me futher into the dark
Wear my grooves thin like the records you play over and over
I don’t mind
Spinning around and round on turntables like emeralds in my mind
Taking down everything around us so the scales don’t tip
It seems too right so everything else must look wrong to compensate