Bright Eyes - The Movement of a Hand

С альбома Fevers & Mirrors

You follow the footsteps...Echoes leading down a hall to a room. There
is music playing-tiny bells with moving parts. Here the shadows make
things ugly, an effect quite undesirable. The bold and yellow daylight
grows like ivy across the wall, and bounces off of the painted
porcelain, tiny dancing doll. Her body spins, as she pirouettes again,
the world suddenly seems small. On an off white, subtle morning you
stretch your legs in the front seat. The road has made a vacuum where
our voices used to be. And you lay your head onto myu shoulder, pour
like water over me. So if I just exist for the next ten minutes of
this drive that would be fine, and all the trees that line this curb
would be rejoicing and alive. Soon all the joy that pours from
everything makes fountains of your eyes because you finally understand
the movement of a hand waving you goodbye.
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