Oh, the storms come like a sickness, don't they?
Blacking out the ceiling of the seaway
Mary-Lynn you should begin to blow home
Blow along the ditches of the freeway
When my body's buzzing like a midway
Mary-Lynn, oh, how thinly it stays
When my body's breaking by the midday
And the touching-towns stretch to the bounds of my body
And all the mounds out from the ground are bulging hotly
Then I know it won't be long before it finally
Does me in
For good
As we take a ferry to an island
Where all the deafening gusts look very silent
We're every blackberry in the clearing pickin'
Who knew my slow heart could ever quicken?
When your body's steaming from the doorway
Mary-Lynn, I have sinned in more ways
Than I could ever tell you with a straight face
But it gets so hot before the chill comes
So much will rot in its welcoming
Sweltering yard
And oh, I know it won't be long before it finally
Does me in
For good
Yeah, the storms have formed some sickness increased
Blacking out the thawing memory at least
Mary-Lynn you should begin to blow home
Nodding off, the bell rings some, the kingdom we did find
The ever-growing holiness we blinded and then put behind
Bouncing with the night-boughs that are heavy with their kind
Rushing with the snow-melt gushing earshot of what's on my mind
It's a love too large to use
Too large not to lose or abuse
And you know how it
Does me in