Text: Devendra Banhart. Rejoicing In The Hands. Insect Eyes.

:
And each strand of her hair is really insect eyes
And each hole in her tongue is always occupied
By the milk of the sun

And each head on her head is fields of gold wheat
Where I'm lying on my back
Where I'm falling asleep
Hmm hmm hmm hmm

And each lash in her eye is really white roots
And each line in her skin is really red roots
Hmm hmm hmm hmm

And the neck her head's on is a tunnel of dawn
But darkness will come
But darkness will come
For sure, it's gonna come

And the breast on her chest
Is where I take my rest
Is where I have my fun
Is where I have my fun
Mm hmm hmm hmm

And one long red nail
That shots from her toe
Is tickling my blood
And shifting its flow
Hmm hmm hmm hmm

And each strand of her hair
Is really insect eyes
And each hole in her tongue
Is always occupied
By the milk of the sun

And i'm always late, 'ways late
And i'm always late
Yeah, i'm always late
Yeah, i'm always late

Ah ah ah ah...

And your black tulips of time
And your black tulips of time
And your hands rejoice in mine

Ah ah ah ah...

And that seed, it grows all day
And that seed, it grows all night
And our veins are intertwined

Ah ah ah ah...