Helvetia With The Tripping Legs
Oh, [?] at bricks
The root does well
Bout anywhere she pleased
Crack at the trail
Running throughout the parlor
With the tripping legs
You reach like vines
Wishing you were the river
Coming out and away
Just like those bees
Swarming their death place
Covering the heights
Covering the heights
It's [?], it should be
You close her eyes
And didn't get back this
Pouring out to the shack
You kill your [?]
After she realized
It's not there
It's not there
