You shameless little thing
Will falling, ill-favored
Leer test yawning at the door
Then some year damn plain bugger
The storm it speaks
What she says to me
Howl, coyote
Sing a song for me, girl
My heart's pounding
On my wheels
My head is high
And the air is sharp
You shameless little being
Come drown my will
Come tempt my jaw
Mouth full of feathers
Stop your song and steal your heart
(ooh-oooh)
(?) comes for me
From my hands, from my head, and from my mouth
I am a mother of precious things, and you,
You are a birther of sorrow
Come travel the air near the coyote
I cut the night, I take your flesh
Soft pines and a quiet heart
I know no certainity even after (?) have left
I'm a rover, I am riding
Mouth hanging open, waiting and feeling
My head is high and the air is sharp
Feathered thing has no hold
Over me
(ooh-oooh)