what kind of people here?
it'll fit its rhymes
the clock face covered in tears

well, what can you do?
i smile at you 
as you fold the newspaper in two

darling watch me say
forget this time
forget this terrible day

dear get up let's go
where no more tears
will salt the end of your nose

i thought maybe you'd be happier some day

feel the foreign sun
forget that civilization
until the excavation's begun

why can't we be
climbing in a tree
in the golden fifth century

oh the sun sets soon
we will smile half moons
and do whatever you choose

dear get up let's go
where no more tears
will salt the end of your nose

i thought maybe you'd be happier some day