It takes a midnight To get to a morning. It takes time to put, ducks in a row. Too many blankets and too many dogs, Kick off the covers, And cover your arms. Hold it to my ear like a phone. When the spring will believe in this leaf. And the leaves will spring up and drop off, You said "Oh my God. I love you, and how. Oh, did I say that, out loud?" I don't want my ears to burn. When the rain came, it sounded like breathing. All banana peals, and I couldn't fall. Hold the phone Hold the phone Hold the phone to the ground. It's the contract of canyons and mountains. White mountains that leave you alone. Leave you undone, With sleep in your eyes, To quietly rise, Like a crane, flying. From here on out, I'm on my own. I'm a moisture stain, on the ceiling. I'm a lattice, clinging to dust. I sending on, to your face And I know for a while, you'll brush me away And I'll become water and grass. When the woodsmoke finally found us Didn't we really smell it at all? Hold the phone Hold the phone Hold the phone To the call. Running easy, and barely-there hornets. Hold it close and then let it all fall. Hold the phone Hold the phone Hold the phone, To the call.