Nothing here to fear
I′m just sitting around being foolish when there is work to be done
Just a hang-up call
And the quiet breathing of our Persian we call Cajun on a Wednesday
So we go from year to year with secrets we've been keeping
Though you say you′re not a Templar man
Seems as if we're circling for very different reasons
But one day the Eagle has to land
Out past the fountain, a left by the station
I start the day in the usual way
Then think, well, why not, and stop for a coffee
And begin to recall things that you say
No one's at the door
You suggest a ghost, perhaps a phantom, I agree with this in part
Something is with us
I can′t put my finger on, is Thumbelina size ten on a Wednesday
So we go from year to year with secrets we′ve been keeping
Though you say you're not a Templar man
You tell me to cheer up, you suspect we′re oddly even
Even still the Eagle has to land
Out past the fountain, a left by the station
I start the day in the usual way
Then think, well, why not, and stop for a coffee
And begin to recall things that you say
Pluck up the courage and snap it's gone again
I start humming when doves cry
Can someone help me, I think that I′l Lost here
Lost in a place called America
Writer(s): Tori Ellen Amos
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