- Title: Behind the Sea
- Album: Pretty. Odd
- Year: 2008
A daydream spills
From my corked head
And breaks free of my wooden necks.
Left to nod over sleeping waves
Like bobbing bait for bathing cod.
Floating flocks of candled swans slowly drift across wax ponds.
The men all played along to marching drums.
And boy did they have fun behind the sea.
So our matching legs are marching clocks
And we're all to small to talk to god.
Yes we're all too smart to talk to god.
Toast the fine folks casting silver crumbs to us from the dock.
Jinxed things ringing as they leak trough tiny cracks in the boardwalk.
Scarecrow now it's time to hatch sprouting suns
And ageless daughters.
Don't you know that those watermelon
Smiles just can't ripen underwater ?
Legs of wood waves, waves of wooden legs.