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| The Shins Oh, Inverted World One by one all day "Howdy, lem," my grandfather said with his eyes closed Wiping the eastbound dust from his sunburned brow A life before doubt. I smell the engine grease and mint the wind is blending Under the moan of rotting elm in the silo floor. Down a hill of pine tree quills we made our way To the bottom and the ferns where thick moss grows Beside a stream. Under the rocks are snails and we can fills our pockets And let them go one by one all day in a brand new place. You were no ordinary drain on her defenses And she was no ordinary girl Oh, Inverted World If every moment of our lives Were cradled softly in the hands of some strange and gentle child I'd not roll my eyes so. |
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