Texty: Jandek. Angel.

With your reckless wisdom
And your arms baking
With your eyes brittle
And your heart of stone
Well I think I see a weasel
Come climbin' off the floor
Since they say my baby left the door
With your key all broken
And your face a-flutter
With your spare ribs groaning
And you're panic-stricken
What's that you're wearing?

I feel you in my soul
Since the day I turned around
Day I turned around [2x]
With your fingers missing
And your paper dreams