We went up the mountain Last Friday night All of the animals Were out in plain sight They didn´t bid us to follow them
They didn´t hiss us away No, to us, my love They had nothing to say
And while you saw the tremor And you saw the wings You saw the glistening white teeth I was busy with things in my mind Things that I tend to As though to survive
I´m not proud I was asking you "Do you dim yourself down?" Do you say terrible things about me When I´m not around?" You sweep a hand through the clearing Say "Can´t you see? There ain´t anything threatening you here
Least of all me"
Put your life on the easel There, right next to mine We ain´t living like weasels We don´t have the time, never will All of the creatures made for the dark woods Whooping, that´s what I heard What if the easel fell over And the paintings were burned to a crisp? Night like these I can´t quite tell A fear from a wish
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