Junior Brother’s Favourite

Lyrics

Part I [Verse 1] I woke early one day On a ploughed field, all upturned clay Where the farmer turns clay first The crow comes after, to scour the earth Little things, left behind The plough will spit up what the beaks will find [Refrain] Low love, I want you up here I am afraid [Verse 2] Scared shy of pain, I'll stay too long to go away If you knew what will happen, you would do the same Because you are dumb, too (No offense!) Where the farmer turns clay first The crows came after to scour the еarth Little things, left behind Thе plough will spit up what I'll find Part II [Verse 3] There is a hole where my head was About the brim of my neck Met with the touch of a finger North, south, east and west They're having mass in the meadow I'm sure they'll flee under rain Watch the procession through my hands Thinking "Was I cursed with a brain?" [Verse 4] Love's useless to no-one 'Til no-one sees someone And no-one's eyes blink in the pews Someone is spotted and no-one is viewed There swings about my knees A long iron chain Which had a cracked handle for sale No coin [Verse 5] There is a hole where my head was About the brim of my neck Met with the touch of a finger North, south, east and west They're having mass in the meadow I'm sure they'll perish in rain Watch the procession through my hands Thinking "Was I cursed with a brain?" [Verse 6] Love's useless to no-one 'Til no-one sees someone And no-one's eyes blink in the pews Someone is spotted and no-one is viewed Love's useless to no-one 'Til no-one sees someone And no-one's eyes blink in the pews Someone is spotted and no-one is viewed Pouncing on marsh, and soaking the heather The banks are lapping, and dive over the brim The pit of each puddle, the head of each hill The heel of my foot to my crown Old names on the stones and old bones in the boxes The heel of my foot to my crown The heel of my foot to my crown The heel of my foot to my crown Part III [Verse 7] Each hill, for each new inch of tree Goes further under earth The endless decade of a rural rosary I am pleased I can't be wrong If the wind's right If I am wrong... [Verse 8] I arrive, luggage-less, and the skin hanging off my face Donkey cheek bones, liver-eyed locals Tide is pulled away, dragged over the sand like a tablecloth Barefoot babies in the branches, screaming through the trees I am pleased, I am pleased, I am pleased [Verse 9] If I am wrong And the wind's right A man will call tonight He's my father Part IV [Refrain] Low love, I want you up here I am afraid [Outro] High love, I want you up here I am not afraid My favourite [Instrumental Outro]