Texty: Stairs (The). On Sleep Lab. All Hands On Hano Street.

You imply that houses fly but I know
that elevation originates in our toes
100 yards and county barns
speckle landscape stately farms
our vision can can isolate the dust
while every actions traces back to trust

hello bedroom hello moon I've missed you
how've you been I ask you how's your issues?
is it true? the kids alright?
The party starts when stars align
I know you've come from half way cross the world
to sit with me and pass the time with words

sparrow, spider, slug and snail sing melodies
memorized back in the forteenth century
it sounds familiar this I know
I'll sing the tenor with the crow
this documentary's just about to rust
every action traces back to trust

here we go, kick start the swoon, you're lovely
your tests to fly without balloons impress me
all hands on hano street, recruit the people that you
meet
on your wayward backwards journey to the one
who never falters once the seed is spun

washed up on town landing lanes my child
were fifty men that bathed in zen during trials
congress, cowards, courts, await
they file in through iron gates
represented by a peasant dressed in rags
who orders up exhibits from the lab

a pedestrian foot bridge covers turnpike
I read all of the spray paint from my bike
down the slope, look left and right
I once fell down and almost died
but I've taken hits to the head before
and always made it back to my front door