Get me the locket; such thick mist.
They say God loves us all.
When we have no peace and
Some broken pocket watch.
I grew up three years ago, in a cold mist,
In an old house between a wood and a field
And chocolate and leather remind me
Of some emerald-cut Grecian girl.
…It’s such a cold mist.
They say He loves everyone he made,
That He’ll hold all who have no peace,
But I fell in love once with a red dirt woman.