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