When the clock strikes dead on midnight
Books fly through the hall
All the lampshades turn and rotate
She walks through the wall
With hands in pockets
I search for rockets that might light up the sky
Have become more withdrawn, since I was first born
But I never know why
I see my body float like leaves
Every day I want to breathe
Rap my knuckles till they bleed
A river deep
If I had sharp claws I'd get on all fours
And scratch your back for free
But it's been written, these nails are bitten
I know what I could be
I see my body float like leaves
Every day I want to breathe
Rap my knuckles till they bleed
A river deep
Writer(s): Edward Henry Harcourt Smith
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