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FOOL’S SPRING

HOLY HOAX IN THE TREELINE

ALL THE POISE OF A CANNONBALL

NO MATTER WHAT THE WAITRESS BRINGS

THE SHADOW IS MINE AND SO IS THE VALLEY

YOUR REFERENCES ARE ALL OUTDATED

IF I WAS A CRIER I’D BE IN FLOODS

HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS

SAFE BEHIND YOUR TEETH

GET YOURSELF A GOOD CAR GET OUT OF HERE

YOU CAN NEVER WIN OR LOSE IF YOU DON’T RUN THE RACE

KISS MY HAND AND WAVE

FOR YOUR SAKE

TIP OF MY TOES

OVERSTEP THE LINE

IT ALL BECOMES A LARK